Aughisky
by LibraMoon
Summary: She cannot escape the feeling of being watched, and of someone waiting for her everywhere she turned. In the rain, in the dark, it started with the gentle whisper in her mind. Not human and oh so terrifyingly beautiful. MarcusCreature x Katie. DracoCreature x Hermoine. Rated M for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Rated M, I own Nothing. Reader beware.**

**I am happy to do requests, but please, if you are going to ask; tell me what "Fell" is first. I am assuming its FlintxBell. If it is not, well… I'm sorry but that is what you are getting. Hope it works for you. **

OoOoOo

_Come to me._

A voice, not her own whispered nearly seductively, but Katie was too frightened to answer. She shivered as the rain pelted her skin roughly. She shouldn't have even been out here. She silently cursed her tragic twist of fate, and those responsible for it. She hadn't meant to sneak out.

No, that part was a lie. She had _meant_ to, but she had not intended to be gone for so very long. Damn her pride. Damn her lack of foresight. She whipped her head around, terrified at the voice without body. Her gaze landed fearfully at the forbidden forest on her left. She really should have listened to the warnings of the Professors and other students.

She was normally smarter than this.

All ambient noise ceased in the chilling moment that the voice made contact with her once more.

_Here._

She had heard tales, whispered about the hallways quietly so as not to arouse the ire of a headmaster; of hearing voices that did not exist and how they might have a supernatural cause. She chattered her teeth at the sudden chill in the air. She was being foolish. She was over tired.

She haphazardly looked to the other side.

A whiny resounded in the distance and all Katie could see was the most terrifyingly marvelous horse. It pawed at the ground; its hide was the color of pitch in midnight. So dark that it appeared almost like a void in her vision as she stared at it uncomprehendingly. The muzzle was wrong for a horse, it was pulled back slightly to show a boney protrusion of the jaw before wickedly sharp teeth gleamed at her in the darkness. The inky black mane looked sopping wet, and though it rained it did not seem correct that it would look so. A frothing of foam, a thin layer, like bubbles from the sea drifted around its hooves, with claw like protrusions, as it stood patiently on the bank of the lake. The ears were turned toward her but they looked more like horns than anything.

She was hypnotized by it, her heart skipping a beat. The painful feeling burned in her chest. It took a concentrated effort not to extend her hand to touch it. Starkly horrifying and utterly breathtaking all at once, the creature nickered at her. Katie did not know what to feel.

_Come to me_.

The voice coaxed gently, nearly like a lover's caress. Katie's lips parted gently, her eyes glued to the creature before her that pawed at the moist ground. It gave a playful toss of its head, willing her to draw closer.

'_If I go slowly, I could touch it_,' she thought absently, her mind driven with a need to feel the animal under hear hand. Katie flinched back, startled by her sudden urge. Confusion waged a silent war with concern and mounting need.

She could not say exactly _how_ she knew, but she did know that it wanted her to touch it. She could feel it all the way through her, from her head to her toes which wiggled in her shoes out of nervousness. Her gaze wandered the expanse of the animal, drinking in its savage beauty. It was sleek, and well-muscled at the same time. Its tail, as wet as its long mane, flicked under her scrutiny; she had the distinct sense it was preening for her. Why, she could not fathom, but it caused slow warmth to spread throughout her limbs.

Unnaturally colored eyes regarded her with mutual interest.

She flushed as she locked eyes with the horse; its pull was so strong that her mind could not quite process what it was she was seeing. It could be dangerous. It looked fearsome and almost evil. It was likely temperamental. As many magical creatures often were. Some animals were even unintentionally so. However, it neighed at her seemingly impatiently.

_Not evil. _It whispered across her thoughts causing her to blink slowly as she relished the gentle touch of something whisking through her. It wasn't evil; she was simply frightened because she was out so late and all alone. She traced the outline of the poll, crest, withers, and back nearly affectionately. She was being rather silly about all this. It was harmless. Wasn't it?

It was waiting for her.

No, that wasn't quite right. _He_ was waiting for her.

A part of her longed to draw closer, to touch its side or bury her hands in its mane. Safe. The creature made her feel safe and comforted. Yet, her instinct tickled at the back of her mind that this beast outweighed her easily and could kill her faster than she could blink.

_Katie_.

She gasped slightly, her eyes widening in surprise at her name, being said so seductively in her own thoughts. It pulled her from her silent ramblings and the parts of her that good sense urged her to heed. The call inside her banished the prudent thoughts of what it was, or what it was doing so close to the forbidden forest. It blocked out the fear associated with a wild animal popping out of nowhere, almost as if it had apperated to the spot. He tossed his head, bidding her to come to him.

She wanted to go to him. However, her feet remained rooted to the ground like a mandrake root. Katie could only stare at him with mute longing.

The Gryffindor maiden allowed the rain to soak into her clothes, and wet her hair until it was plastered against her chilled skin. She wanted to touch him, her common sense seemingly having fled. She brought her hand to her face in indecision.

If she went, no one would know. Surely, the beast wouldn't harm her. Katie could feel his tangible presence in her mind, and it calmed her. The feel of him stroked parts of her that were not yet awakened as she quivered under the weight of it.

'_Just one touch_,' she promised herself fervently. One touch and she would continue her lonely, cold, and damp trek back to the safety of Hogwarts.

One foot moved slowly in front of the other, and her hand was outstretched as she reached for the animal with child=like trust. The presence in her mind, so wholly masculine, seemed very pleased by her approach. She sighed unconsciously at being awash with the feeling of satisfaction that rolled about her thoughts. She liked the feeling. It made her happy to make him happy.

Her fingers trembled slightly from the cold, but she could feel the building anticipation between them. Human and equine creature locked in a silent engagement of the minds. They wanted a similar thing, Katie's hand upon the stallion.

She trudged ever closer, her lips parted and her cheeks flushed as she became closer to her goal. He felt hungry for her, not in a way that would cause her alarm, but made her feel special somehow. As if she were a fine treasure that he need to have. She could feel the undercurrents of possession sink into her apperception.

A small part of her psyche flared to life, warning her that this was wrong. Something about this creature was not to be trusted and she should not go near it. Katie swam in a sea of conflicting thoughts.

'_No,_' she thought vaguely.

_Come to me._ The thought compelled her to move another step forward.

'_Dangerous_,' her mind started to wail and her magic jumped the longer she stared into the unnaturally colored eyes.

_Safe_. He corrected forcefully and she pulsated with delight.

The gap between them closed steadily, her gaze never leaving him. Deadly grace oozed from every line of the beast and it did strange things to her. Being closer made her feel hot, and dazed. Her thoughts grew dimmer and dimmer until not cognizant thought remained except touching him.

A pale hand was finally within inches of the dark and bone muzzle.

She could feel him radiating mania, consumption with desire, and _obsession._ It was dark and twisted so out of her realm of experience that she nearly cried out but was powerless to stop herself from drawing nearer. Gloom, damming, bleakness, and every other negative aspect of the emotional spectrum swam in those eyes that she could not break free from. They were alight with no light at all.

_Just one touch._

A howl in the distance, long and low broke the spell over her. The rain crashed over her body in icy stings. Katie went to pull back suddenly afraid beyond words by the creature. Her gaze moved to face the threat head on, her other hand already reached for her wand.

There was nothing. Only the undisturbed surface of the lake and the distant rumbles of animal noises in the forest. Katie shivered.

What was that thing?

Cautiously she put away her wand. "Fight or flight" reared its ugly head with a vengeance. Without thought to other dangers, without any other prompting she ran. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her though the rain started to pour much harder than before. Katie Bell sprinted as if on of Hagrid's creatures wanted to make her a tasty after dinner snack. She tripped, hurtling toward the ground. The sensation of being followed caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end before it was slicked down by water.

_Katie. _ The whisper echoed across her mentality akin to a shot in an enclosed room. It thundered in her hears and pulsed with her heartbeat. She could feel that it wanted her to come back. She could sense that he needed her to stop running, but she did not heed the pull this time. Fear had effectively nullified the temptation.

Cold and numb, she picked herself back up and pushed onward. Warm blood trickled from a scratched knee where skin had given way under rock, and she could tell the school grounds were not far now. She bolted, over the bridge, a blur in the dark night and visibility slightly shrouded by the rain.

She could scarcely recall getting back into the castle, only the trembling of her limbs and the roaring of her heart. She left large puddles in the hallways as her socks squished with each step inside of her soggy shoes. She pushed back the dripping locks of hair from her face, and took a deep breath.

For a moment, she concentrated only on returning to the safety of the Gryffindor common room and a dry change of clothes. She stopped momentarily to ring out her hair; Katie berated herself for her foolishness and also for being goaded into something she knew better than to do.

She shivered; the sensation of being watched returned in full force. She looked around her quickly, praying that some ghost did not intend to blow her cover and get her into a mountain of trouble she would never escape from.

Silence and an empty hallway greeted her. Katie tried to shake off the growing agitation, but nothing came of it. She thought she caught a glimpse of a shadow moving along the upper floor. She parted her lips, prepared to scream as she fumbled for her wand once more.

However, no threat presented itself. She quivered at the memory of the mental presence both frightened and awash with yearning to hear the voice again. Part of her burned to see the creature once more.

She released a breath she was not aware she'd been holding.


	2. Chapter 2

**A hearty thanks to all that have read and reviewed! I appreciate your time and effort. **

**Rated M. I own nothing.**

OoOoOo

She crept into her room like a woman whose life depended on what little sleep should could garner from the plush comforter. The area around her bed, where she'd shucked off her wet clothes as quietly as possible had been sullied by dirt and water. Katie did not dare to risk using magic so late at night and rousing the suspicions of her classmates. She shivered in the chilly night air, barely warmed by the radiating warmth of the room.

She dreamed of the sea in the middle of a great storm. She stood on shore half-terrified of the power before her. The waves and salty air beckoned her, and a serpentine horse moved through the water with the grace only a predator of the ocean knows. The swishing of a monstrous tail that hadn't been present before splashed playfully at her. She'd been running from it as fast as she could, until the water had caught up with her feet. She'd stumbled, falling into the water; the creature had started to drag her under. Further away from the light and air. She couldn't breathe. Deeper into the water which darkened as seaweed gripped her tightly, holding her in place. She remained suspended as the creature warped its body around her. Its unnatural eyes glowing as its body twisted and changed shape. The elongated teeth nipped at her flesh, leaving small clouds of blood in the dark water.

Katie had awoken pale and drenched in sweat. It had seemed too real and vivid. She took a deep breath smoothing back her tangled locks.

She kicked restlessly at her covers, deep red greeting her as she sighed.

She dressed for class with a slowness born of lack of restful sleep. She took care of her basic hygiene before sauntering down to the great hall for breakfast.

She couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

She failed to see the dark eyes that never left her as she ate hurriedly, trying to get off to her first class as soon as possible.

The day passed in a blur, much like most days. She learned a great deal but would have been hard pressed to tell you what the lesson plan was from last week. She gathered her assignments, and her writing supplies. She gave a cursory glance to the light of day as it traveled lower in the sky. She would need to hurry.

She all but flew out of her last class with a determination that she normally only sported on the field. She dodged and wove through the throng of students, attempting not to catch snippets of conversations here or there, but it was harder than it sounded.

She ducked when Peeves came howling around some unsuspecting first years. She snickered to herself quietly over his antics. Her feet moved swiftly across the stone, failing to hear the footprints of a new comer that echoed hers nearly perfectly.

Katie moved deeper and deeper into the maze that was Hogwarts. She found herself alone with that same feeling of eyes on her.

"Bell," a voice greeted low and slightly menacing.

She shivered in spite of herself. The pressure in the room felt as if it had changed when he spoke. Or perhaps it was when she became aware of him.

Ah, she hadn't heard him approach.

She blinked upward at the source, finding none other than Marcus Flint watching her intently. His eyes were unreadable as they usually were and she tried valiantly not to think about his overcrowded teeth. They hardly spoke to each other; sure they'd traded blows a time or two out on the field-all within regulation guidelines of course-, but outside of that they were content to ignore one another.

He loomed in the room, seeming far larger than he truly was. She took a hesitant step back. His eyes caught and held hers. She swayed slightly her thoughts focusing on the fact that he was not looking at her as he normally did. Instinct told her something was different between them. She swallowed quickly, clearing her throat.

"Flint," she replied lightly trying not to focus on how he was normally rather creepy. He certainly was not the most handsome boy in school. Katie had always thought he looked rather long in the face, almost a little like a horse.

The mental image of the creature from the night before flashed in her mind and she shook it away. Now was not the time to be thinking about the strange beast. Stray strands of her hair tumbled out of place and fell in front of her face. Self-consciously she tucked them back.

She noticed that his gaze followed her movements lazily.

She hadn't forgot how competitive he was, or how he had tried to break Wood's fingers in something as simple as a handshake. She did not trust Slytherins. No one did. Not even other members of their house.

However Katie's nature was sweet and friendly. She mentally kicked herself as her personality traits kicked in even when speaking with the rival Quidditch Captain.

But there was respect and protocol after all. Curse her good manners.

"Did you need something?" She hedged nervously, valiantly tried to summon up that famed Gryffindor courage. It would come any minute now. Any minute. She peaked up at him again disliking the tense atmosphere that brewed in the room.

He grinned, something that was not in his best interest. She could see his teeth now and any chance of him looking a touch less unattractive flew out the window. When his mouth was closed it wasn't so bad. He was a decent looking chap, she supposed. In the right light… such as midnight on a new moon.

She internally winced at her unkind thought. It truly wasn't his fault that he hadn't ended up a handsome bloke like Cedric, or Pucey. A smattering of goodwill extended toward him simply because he had failed to say anything yet that ignited her indignant streak.

"I was looking for something." He said evenly, and she cocked her head to the side.

"Oh. Did you need help finding it then?" She asked politely as she secretly hoped he would dismiss her or deny the offer. She really should be studying if she wanted to make practice without having to worry about her high marks in Transfiguration slipping.

Her pulse leapt of its own accord as he continued to peer at her with unreadable eyes. She was having trouble breathing properly around him.

His teeth barred between lips that she'd only previously noticed when they were spitting curses or insults at her. She blinked as he looked suddenly intimidating in this light. Her nervousness heightened a notch.

"Was looking Bell. Past-tense." His deep voice forced Katie to snap her mouth shut for a heartbeat. Something glittered in his dark grey eyes that only served to place her more on edge.

She stood there agape that he was… was he teasing her? No, that simply could not be. This was Marcus Flint, notorious Slytherin who was staring at her without blinking. She felt the same shiver as before course down her spine. Yes, it was definitely Flint. There had to be an ulterior motive. She glanced around wondering if she would find assailants with mindless toy pranks in the edges of the hall. She found nothing but herself and him. It was not out of house rivalry then. She felt uneasy with how his face remained perfectly guarded as he spoke.

For the first time since meeting him, he seemed dangerous on a whole new level.

"Oh, well," she trailed off momentarily, trying to avoid his serpent-like stare. "If you're all set, I'll just be off and you can use the hallway then," she said demurely with a small smile, hoping to put a bitter end to an awkward conversation quickly. The room had shrunk in size around Flint, though not literally, his presence seemed a bit too much to handle at the moment.

Her breathe caught in her throat. Barely present thoughts danced and flittered away before she could grasp them.

He bent slightly, to place himself at her eye level. Katie bit back a snarl of surprise. His eyes were, darker in a way that had her gazing right back at him trapped by her own curiosity. They were still a shifty sort of grey, but different in such a way that she needed time to puzzle it over.

"You should be careful to not go inviting trouble," He said out of the blue and she paused at his warning tone. She briefly wondered how he could have possibly known about her scare last night, or if he was fishing for information to get her house reduced in points.

Either was a dangerous situation when Marcus Flint was up to no good.

She straightened her back, head held high but her eyes not leaving his. She thought about looking away, at anything but him, however something kept her from accomplishing the notion. It was almost as if her body would not obey her thoughts. It was absurd. She must have been over tired.

He leaned in closer to her, unbidden the scent of the ocean flooded her nostrils and she savored the slightly salty scent. He had likely just finished practice and that was not the ocean she probably smelled, but it still teased in her head that he did carry the aroma of nature. She watched as his face neared her, unreadable and just a little frightening.

"Trouble will always find you, Bell, if you let it," his words were a whisper on her ears and she flushed uncertain of what to do. His breath tickled her skin, but it felt off. She did not feel a rise of girlish desire. No, a small part of her wanted to back away from him until there was the whole length of the Castle between their bodies. Some instinct told her that would still not be enough distance. After all, trolls needed far more space than regular magic folk.

"I'll keep that in mind," she said worriedly. Was he threatening her? It was entirely possible. The air around them seemed to crackle with unspoken meaning. His very image seemed sinister and dark. She inhaled sharply as he crowded her even more.

Arrogant prick. She felt a flash of annoyance that he thought he could try and scare her in this manner. She refused to be cowed further and met his gaze with fire rising from hers. She almost regretted it instantly.

There was an undeniable quality about Flint today, and Katie wanted nothing to do with it.

"Were you on your way to practice?" His hooded eyes probed hers thoroughly.

Her mouth felt dry and she stuttered like poor Longbottom. "N-no."

He circled her, like a shark sensing something wounded. His teeth made the analogy almost too much to handle. Katie blushed, slightly flattered he was taking such interest in her and more put off that he was acting so unlike himself.

"Where were you off to then?" He rumbled in some private amusement she was not privy to.

She cocked her head to the side, her posture coming off as defensive. "It is not any of your business where I go."

He clicked his teeth for a moment. His eyes screwed up in some vague sense of delight. As if her telling him off had amused him somehow.

How dare he?!

Katie bristled, suddenly feeling indignant. "Now sod off Flint. I have places to be." She snapped harshly. His amusement only grew, but the look in his eyes was distant and cold. She shuddered in spite of herself.

She strutted away from him as if he were a waste of her time. This in hindsight was actually quite true. She still needed to study now if she wanted to have time to practice later. She would not fall behind in her skill drills. She flushed angrily at the memory of getting knocked off her broom during the last game.

Damn Ravenclaws.

She could not escape the feeling she was being watched. Katie slowed, turning around to see if she could find the culprit. There was no one. She raised a brow at her own silliness, grinning that she needed more sleep. Provided it did not come with freaky horse dreams. She giggled softly at her own foolishness and continued on.

The feeling did not fade.

She grew concerned that Flint was playing some prank on her. She felt jittery as she started to pick up her pace.

She stopped multiple times, and even hid in an alcove waiting for someone to pass, but there was no one following her.

She took three rights, and then two lefts, followed by one flight of stairs. A familiar outline greeted her at the top.

"Hullo." Katie said cheerily, brushing off her earlier anxiety now that someone she knew was within reach. Leanne, her best friend and someone she often got into a few rather rotten situations with, grinned back at Katie. They exchanged a brief look of exhaustion over the recent work load.

"Hello," Leanne said kindly. "Where were you last night?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Now, I am concerned and also hoping that now laws were broken." Her eyes cast a sly glance, "You weren't getting knackered or with a boy were you."

The chaser snorted in distaste. She had more important things to worry about than boys right now. "Yes, you caught me. I'm secretly even pregnant with his love child now." She feigned a small swoon as Leanne laughed heartily.

"Well, at least no one can ever claim you are dull Ms. Harlot Bell."

"Why thank you, you incorrigible vixen." She replied with a saucy wink.

"Did you want to come with me to the Hufflepuff common room tonight?"

There would likely be games, and the passing around of notes before the final essays were due, and Katie simply _had_ to brush up on her Transfigurations notes. She shook her head sadly. "I would love to, but I really can't. I have to study."

Leanne gave an understanding shrug. "There is nothing you can do about that, then. Want me to walk with you to the library?"

Katie nodded enthusiastically, it would be nice to quite her raging nerves a bit. She was beginning to worry that she'd developed a flair for the dramatic and non-existence due to some strange horse in a lake. She was not going to go out there again without another person with her under any circumstance.

Instinct told her it would be unwise.

Katie turned to make her way to the Library, there would be several halls and flights of stairs to walk or climb respectively. She pursed her lips already irritated by the turn of events. A small clump of something tumbled to the ground, barely making any sound at all. It was the motion that caught Leanne's eyes quickly. Recognition lit her intuitive eyes.

"Well that's strange," her friend muttered in a confused tone.

"What's strange?"

"It's water weed." She replied holing the thing up between her thumb and forefinger. She rubbed it gently and frowned at the moisture present. "It must have been harvested fairly recently."

Katie watched her while attempting to keep the boredom off of her features. She loved all of her friends but if it wasn't quidditch, she had the nasty habit of not paying much attention.

"I did have potions today. Someone probably knocked it over in the store room," she offered readily.

"Onto your robes?"

"I knock things over all the time, and it could easily have been swept up in this veritable drapery of a robe."

Leanne nodded acceptingly. "Yes, you must be right. It likely was trapped under someone's shoe. That would explain how it got all the way out here."

"Or it was stuck on their robes. It happens more often than you would think," the Chaser pointed out conversationally.

"I suppose it would. Wouldn't it?"

Katie nodded, tucking her hair back once more.

"Oh! Did I tell you about what happened during lunch in the great hall this morning?"

"No, I do not believe that you did." A wry smile painted her lips as her friend sucked in a deep lungful of breath. Where ever this conversation was going, it was going to be undeniably long. Katie chuckled internally. She'd go over drills in her thoughts as they made their way to the her actual destination of the Library.

"Well, aren't you in for a treat? There is talk, and mind you it is nothing more than rumors to begin with, that Ronald Weasley, you remember him correct? Of course you do-"

She neglected to point out yet again that they were on the same quidditch team, and therefore it was impossible to forget the boy that had vomited slugs for so long. She'd had to avoid one or two in mid-air. It was not something which someone simply 'forgot'.

Katie hummed her approval and they threw the water weed away. It was discarded carelessly, missing the rubbish bin entirely. Neither female noticed. The matter of its existence was decidedly forgotten by the pair as Katie listened to Leanne go into great detail about the latest row between Ron and Hermoine. Honestly, the whole tower would know about it before the end of dinner. It happened with alarming frequency. Katie had her own opinions on the matter, but it was not her life and therefore not her place to say. She was content to ignore any unfortunate rumors.

However, Leanne's one tiny flaw was being a bit of a gossip. Their footsteps retreated down the hall, followed by the sound of Leanne's excited murmurs.

It covered the approaching steps nicely, leaving no cause for the girls to turn around. The water weed, dried and shriveled was picked up by large brutish hands. A calloused thumb brushed over it gently, almost tenderly. Dark hair greedily accepted the clump, turning into fine short black strands. A near rumbled of pleasure tumbled from sinisterly grinning lips.

The weed, its appearance and disappearance would never be of any consequence to anyone except the dark eyes that followed Katie's every move with rapt attention.

And, only the figure stalking her from the shadows felt the heavy thrill of the approaching rain storm.


	3. Chapter 3

**Dear readers,**

**I hope you are enjoying the story. Please do not forget to review as it does help me know if what I convey is being understood in the correct context. Thank you so much!**

**Rated M, I own nothing, semi-graphic content. **

OoOoOo

The rain provided cover for many things that thrived in the night. Movement was something to be feared, for those that prowled the night were confident that they could take on any enemy, and always with good reason. Her mind ticked off the most likely suspects that would be present on a night like this. She sighed, staring out toward the forest longingly. There had been some adventures with Harry and Ron that she would have loved to do again. She had perched herself by one the side most areas of the Castle, so she could watch the storm come and go.

In all honesty she should have been studying, but there were small things like this that reminded her of her home, and her parents. It was not weakness to miss someone, most times she didn't truly ever dwell on it, but on nights like this which brought back memories she did.

Lighting flashed across the sky, rumbling its pleasure, and she smiled, a small and satisfied smile. Her eyes dancing as she watched with rapt attention.

A strangled cry, almost unheard over the thunder made her pause. Hermione Granger, blinked and tried to process what she had heard. It could easily have been someone playing around when they shouldn't. Merlin knew that happened often enough when you had adolescents with magical abilities all grouped together under one enormous roof.

She turned cautiously, hoping not to find some mischievous or dastardly prank being played upon her person. She frowned heavily at the still unoccupied space, vacant except for her of course. She looked about, her steps a bit forceful as she stomped down the length of the room. Nothing.

How unusual.

She searched for a moment or two more, before settling back by the window. The rain had stopped, and she felt a pang of disappointment as she scowled.

Her eyes caught movement in the trees below. She blinked as a figure emerged from the tree-line but she could only just barely make out an outstretched hand, as if it were looking for help before it was pulled roughly back into the forest.

She straightened with her eyes wide and pulse pounding.

Had she seen what she thought she had?

Yes, she had and something compelled her to go outside.

Someone was in trouble. Hermione was a witch of action and she wasted no time in shoving away from the window and running down flights of stairs. She wished desperately that Harry or Ron were with her, but it was the dinner hour and if she took time to divert into the main hall, someone might be killed for all she knew.

Time was of the essence. Her dark robes flew behind her as her bushy hair bounced with each step. Perhaps, she could summon Hagrid for assistance if things became too perilous, but right now, someone needed her assistance. She charged head first, not pausing to reconsider her actions. Gryffindor brashness etched through and through as Hermione slipped through vacant halls trying to quell the nervous feeling in her stomach. It would be fine. She knew above her year in spells both defensive and offensive. She felt somewhat confident she could enter the fray as Harry often times did alone.

It was not long before she was running across the bridge.

"Hello?!" She called out somewhat frantically. "Is someone in trouble?"

Her pace slowed as she reached the approximate place she thought she'd seen the figure. Her mouth was dry, and her fingers twitched with unspent adrenaline.

Her eyes sharpened as they adjusted to the darkness. She shifted, looking in all directions for someone. A guttural cry sounded, and she flinched back in shock. Her attention focused on the trees. Common sense made her pause as fought her first instinct to run toward the sound. It could very well be a trap. It was the most likely scenario, and she'd played right into it.

Her hear hammered under her ribcage.

Something flittered through the trees slowly.

"H-help," a weak and pained male voice called. She paused at the sound of… hoof beats? "Run… r-un."

A centaur! Hermione's eyes widened and she took four steps forward, intent on offering help. Did he need her to hurry? Yes, that is what run could have meant. Or he was telling her to run, in which case she was doing the exact opposite of what he wanted. She chewed a lip in contemplation before hardening herself for the task at hand.

A gurgle, soft and pained warbled through to her left.

She whirled around, prepared to defend whatever harmed creature or person was had been hobbling through the forest. Equally ready to go down fighting as she reached for her wand with one hand.

Something moved through the underbrush, the sounds of twigs as they snapped caused her head to turn from staring straight forward and she caught sight of something she highly doubted was a unicorn.

She froze.

It was a man, only not. Perhaps humanoid in nature, but its aura slammed into her and the Gryffindor trembled at the knees. Oh sweet Circe! This creature was not something to be toyed with even if she were a more accomplished witch with a great deal of Auror training.

It had horns, silver in color that gleamed wickedly in the darkness, growing upward and branched out like antlers only to fine points in the back. Another set, twisted like a goat's wrapped around the pointed ears. The horns had delicate ridge work, and it appeared as if they had thorns on them. No, not thorns, bone spikes, that intricately formed around the horns akin to deadly decoration. They dripped with crimson blood. He was gorgeous in the same way that a cheetah poised to take the life of a gazelle was. She gasped. Her eyes diverted to the slain centaur at his feet. His face was pale and nearly unearthly, longer in structure than her own. She stepped back in fear of amber colored eyes with slits like a goat.

Golden rings, gems, jangles, and bits were woven throughout dark hair. He shifted, giving her his full attention as the tall monster stared at her intently. Its male human face, gave her pause. Something about it seemed vaguely familiar, but that simply could not be, she would remember if she had seen _him_ before.

His hands curled like claws, with viciously sharp nails that also dripped that same ruby-red blood. Whatever it was took a step toward her.

Hermione forgot to breathe. Even her vast knowledge failed her at the moment. She could not name what it was, or what it was even doing near Hogwarts. Her heart slammed painfully in her chest. Good sense told her to flee as quickly as possible, but her mind puzzled over the conundrum her presented. It was not a time for her to be pondering. She could not help herself however. Seeing the creature had her on edge and her more than ample curiosity rose to the occasion.

"What are you?" She asked without realizing she had done so.

The amber-goat eyes blinked slowly as his lips curled into a sinful grin. She watched with wide eyes as it crooked a finger at her. She shook her head in denial. She might be a little foolhardy, as charging into battles past would indicate, but this was a place where she would tread lightly. If only because something in her cautioned that such a feeling of death and menace coming off of him would in all probable situations be directed at her.

Those sinful lips changed to a smile, showing pointed teeth. Her only thought was that he was the personification of evil and darkness. Not even Lord Voldermort had terrified her more. Her legs quivered, and she faced him while stepping backward.

She had been a tad hasty coming down here after all.

'_Tactical retreat_,' she thought barely able to form the words. Her limpid eyes clashed with his inhuman ones.

What was he? How had he gotten here?

His eyes flashed at her defiance, and she froze, something in his gaze forced her to stop moving. Even her arms would not obey her to reach for her wand. He tilted his head to look at her, the tinkle of metal bits jangling drew her attention to his dark hair. It was long, and there was an air of superiority in his fine features. She could not help but linger on the blood congealing on his horns.

They stared at each other for several heartbeats as she watched the blood dry to a rusty brown.

His long fingers unwound a trinket in his hair. Hermione could only watch in rapt attention. Thoughts, sayings, lessons, books, and articles ran through her head as she tried in vain to match what was before her with a name. He needed a name. A named opponent was one she could fight if she had to.

His claw-like fingernails picked at the strands until the object was freed. He threw it to her, her arms moved without her permission and she caught it as it flashed through the air. She opened her cupped hands slowly to see a small golden hoop lying there innocently.

Confusion lit her features as she looked up toward the creature. Perhaps he was like the Hippogriffs? Hermione's body felt as if it were unwinding from its terror. She closed her hands around the hoop. She pressed her closed hands to her chest. She felt foolish, but there were strange things about the wizarding world she was still puzzling out. The creature had not harmed her, it had not done anything and as far as she knew it could have been a natural…enemy… of centaurs… in the… wild. She blanched at the thought. It was murder, what he had done, but the line and laws for magical creatures were blurred.

She wasn't even sure where this stood in relation to justice. Her pulse quickened. Was this allowed? Like slavery with the house elves was considered acceptable. It was barbaric and awful! Her eyes watered.

No, she didn't need to be sad. This was perfectly normal. Animals hunted each other and humans hunted animals. These things simply happened.

She could feel those unnatural eyes upon her and she instinctually understood he was waiting for her to do something.

How rude of her.

She bowed slightly, not taking her eyes off of him. He flashed pointed teeth, and she could sense that he was pleased.

"Thank you," she said softly, manners having been drilled into her as a child.

His dark eyebrow arched. The male rumbled in his throat, it startled her how deep and sinister it sounded. She had briefly forgotten about the power all but oozing out from him. She swallowed, though her throat and mouth were dry. Hermione trembled in the chilled air, but she was uncertain if part of it wasn't from him.

He snorted, a very animal sound, and bent to pick up a leg of the dead centaur. She turned her head away, her gaze catching the torch light of the castle. Her mind exploded into thoughts of getting away from him. She took another step back, her body shook as he came forward with measured strides.

She blinked once. Then twice. Her feet were moving before she even comprehended that she was running. She could almost physically feel his presence and his eyes on her retreating back. The gold hoop was still tightly clasped in her hands as she ran. Her frizzy hair bounced behind her, and she felt tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

She had to figure out what that thing was. It left her disquieted and afraid. She was a Gryffindor! Yet, she was still very much terrified of whatever that had been. She had to get to the library, there had to be a tome or a reference on the thing.

There had to be.

She had to warn Dumbledore, if he didn't already know. She should look for McGonna-

The stars were beautiful tonight.

Her steps slowed and Hermione turned around. Her thoughts had been interrupted, and for the life of her she could not remember what she had been thinking. In fact, she could only vaguely recall that she had come down to the area between the lake and the forest because she'd seen something in the trees. She shivered in the cold; her greater intelligence appeared to have failed her from remembering a coat.

Why didn't she have a coat?

She turned around baffled. She must not have seen anything after all; she had been largely preoccupied by her Ancient runes assignment. Perhaps she'd wanted to come outside to clear her head?

Dimly, she realized that her hands were clasped to her chest. She moved her arms, wondering briefly what she had been doing that required her arms like this.

That was right; she'd been taking a stroll around the lake after the rain storm. Hermione fondly recalled the flashes of lightning as they moved across the sky and the smell of rain in the air as it fell on the soon damp earth. She fondly remembered nights similar to this one in the comfort of her bed at home, listening to the pitter-patter of drops in the roof.

She unfurled her hands and something fell from her grasp. Hermione started blankly at a golden hoop lying on the soft, wet, earth. She picked it up and brushed some of the dirt off. She must have found it, but something told her that it was hers. How strange.

She should feel suspicious, but she didn't. It was hers. She'd bought or found it somewhere. Ah, she remembered now, it had been by the forest. That is why she'd come outside of the castle. She'd seen it gleaming in the starlight and been curious.

Hermione chuckled at her impetuousness. Well, since she'd gone through all the trouble of going to get it, she'd keep it. Feeling contented, she strolled back to the safety of Hogwarts, with her new prize in her hand.

She still needed to get into bed before curfew.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author on break after this for an undetermined amount of time. Thanks for reading! I appreciate the reviews. Hope you enjoy. **

**I own nothing. Rated M. **

**You know the drill. **

OoOoOo

Quidditch marked a change in events that left Katie feeling strange. Flint was watching her throughout the game. That in and of itself was nothing new or alarming; but the way her watched her had changed. His shifty eyes seemed hardened with some unreadable determination she did not understand.

That and his continuous staring.

She shifted uncomfortably on her broom, careful not to unseat herself. She flew around chasing the quaffle, as was her position. Angelina Johnson, a good friend of hers had possession and was attempting to get it past the Slytherin keeper. It was not going as well as could be hoped. She spotted Harry dive-bombing low to follow the snitch; Malfoy was not far behind him. Their hands were both outstretched.

She was glad she didn't have that position.

She hovered for a moment, waiting for an opening to try and get a pass from Angelina, when she shivered.

Marcus Flint, was hovering next to her. When he'd gotten there, she didn't know but here he was in all his toothy glory. She frowned to herself, and eased her broom a bit away from him. She grew dismayed when he followed.

Her cheeks flushed, and she didn't particularly want to open up a conversation, somewhat mortified by where it might lead.

She cleared her throat pointedly. He continued to do nothing but look at her. Alright this was creepy even for him.

"We are playing a game here, Flint. Shouldn't you at least pay attention?" She snapped out in irritation.

"I am paying attention," he intoned deeply and she looked at him askance.

Her gaze moved away from him to the announcer shouting the new score. Damn. Slytherin was winning. She pushed forward, attempting to ignore him. He trailed after. She intercepted a pass between the two Slytherin chasers she could see. The third would be around here somewhere. She held fast readying herself to throw it to Alicia. The other girl grinned at her with a knowing look.

Katie paused, her head turning to see Flint still following her. He made no aggressive movements of any kind. He appeared… almost indulgent. She growled under her breath. What an annoying boy. She lobbed the quaffle to Alicia, who took off with speed and grace.

She zipped past Flint and his grey eyes without a second thought.

_Come to me._

Anything she had planned to do was cast into the wind as the voice pressed in her mind. She moved toward the direction of the lake, she could see it from her vantage point, but there was nothing there. No terrifyingly beautiful horse. Nothing.

She turned her head from side to side scanning every available inch of space that she could. Where was it? What was going on?

A bludger careened into her, nearly toppling her off of her broom. She yelled in fright and pain. Her eyes were wide as she gripped onto the handle for dear life. Her broom went spinning with her one it, as she tried with all her might to pull up. She saw some feint stars in her vision, and felt he wind whipping across her body brutally.

Finally, she was able to right herself. Not terribly the worse for wear, she still felt startled. More by the unknown voice than her impromptu plummet. She shook herself, trying to calm her raging heart and random thoughts.

Flint was by her in moments.

"Have you remembered how to fly yet?" He asked in a monotone fashion that only served to turn her confusion and fear into anger.

"Oh piss off," she snarled hotly.

"Language, Bell." He admonished with a shark like leer.

She placed a hand on her chest. "Oh forgive me. _Please would you_ piss off?"

His troll-like features morphed into amusement, dark and twisted. "Since you asked so nicely," he commented dryly. She still felt as if something was off about the boy, but she said nothing. He seemed different than he had even the other night.

"Would you stop staring at me too?" She asked half-hopeful.

"No."

She gaped at him as if she'd never seen him before.

"Well, why ever not?"

He shrugged, the meaning lost to her and known only to him. Even in the sky she felt as if he were looming over her. His body ridged and his eyes hard.

"You really should be more aware of your surroundings," he said ominously and she shrank back on her broom. His gaze made her even more uncomfortable and she looked away.

"I can take care of myself," she replied quietly.

"No, you can't." He flippantly stated as if it were a well-known fact. He was weighing something in the pregnant silence between them. He tapped his fingers, dirty from use and the game, along the side of his thigh. Katie did not know why she waited. She should have flown off. She should have left without a backwards glance.

She did not.

"You have no idea what I am capable of," she defended herself with as much dignity as she could muster.

His face turned back into a blank mask. "I know a great many things Bell." His words were like carefully selected venom. "Things you could not even begin to imagine with that little mind of yours. And I think the truth would be better served by stating that you have no idea what _I_ am capable of."

His words caused unease to swirl in her stomach. She'd heard rumors about the people in Slytherin. All of Hogwarts had. Was he implying something she hoped he wasn't? Was that the reason he acted so oddly?

She was about to retort, the words hot on her lips when the buzzer sounded. Slytherin had caught the snitch. Malfoy wasn't even preening, which was surprising for him. He was just looking off into the stands.

Oh blast it all.

"Remember this well," Flint continued evenly when the noise and cheering had died down. "There are things out there infinitely more dangerous than a _bludger_." It was the pure malice in his words that frightened her.

She shook at his words, dread pooled in her legs as she paled. A small cool drop of water landed on her cheek.

He leaned in, his scent still calling memories of the ocean and wiped it off. His dark eyes, surely darker than they had been moments before, looked at her intently.

"Looks like rain," he near whispered in a seductive tone that still held the edges of a promise of pain.

She tore her gaze away, looking toward the sky as another droplet splatter across the bridge of her nose. When she lowered her gaze, his face was inches from hers and their breaths mingled for a moment in time. His gaze was predatory and she'd never seen him this close to anyone.

"Good game," he said quietly.

She'd never flown so fast away from something in all of her life.

OoOoOo

He was watching her. Hermione flicked her gaze from Harry to Draco Malfoy. She could not explain how she knew, but she did know that he was watching her. It had her on edge as she conversed innocently with Cormac McLaggen who had been kind enough to accompany her to the game.

Her brown eyes wandered over Malfoy's face, his eyes bored into her strangely without malice.

He had to be up to something, she thought in irritation.

He had to be because he watched her all the time lately. She could scarcely grab a roll at dinner without catching sight of the Slytherin boy staring at her from across the hall. At first she'd brushed it off as mere coincidence, but coincidences did not happen five times. She had peeked shyly around, to see if there was a girl behind her he was truly looking at, and while there had been a few; she could not help but think she had been the object of his attention.

In fact he had been downright quite in class for the past few days. His eyes had strayed more than once to the chain she wore around her neck. Tucked inside was a solid gold hoop that Hermione had found down by the lake. She intended to return it to the rightful owner, if she ever found them. Until then she kept it safely nestled under her robes. It seemed odd to her but it was almost like Malfoy knew it was there.

He could not possibly know about it, however, she was simply stressed. There was always so much to do if she expected to remain at the top of the class.

And, she most certainly did expect that. She craved to be the smartest, but that did not mean she did so without a great deal of effort thrown in. She did not need to be wasting precious time and energy on sodding Draco Malfoy. Did she? No.

Though it prickled her a bit that he hadn't come by with his cursory insults in a while. She had risked a quick side-long glance at him in potions.

Yes, it would seem he was still watching her. How he could do that and still keep his concoction at the needed temperature, she did not know. She also did not like the small surge of envy she felt over his apparent excellence at multi-tasking. Hermione grit her teeth at her scatter thoughts she quickly looked back at her ingredients, checking everything for the twelfth time in five minutes.

He was likely trying to fluster her for some hideous purpose.

She'd have to double check her robes for malicious enchantments later.

Frankly, he was starting to unnerve her. What sort of person could stare that long without seemingly blinking? It wasn't correct. He should be sneering, smirking, and acting like an arrogant prick. Well, he still was an arrogant prick, but he seemed mostly blank faced when looking at her. There was nothing that gave away what he was thinking or why he was watching her.

She had shifted away from him in class, much as she did now in the stands. She forced herself to cheer when Gryffindor scored. Her heart was not in the merriment though. His gaze was finally taken away from her long enough for her to relax. Cormac shot her a lazy smile that she returned with a bit too much enthusiasm.

Perhaps Malfoy was getting sick or he was trying to figure out if he could crack the self-proclaimed book worm from her somewhat hostile silence.

Hermione would never say why it bothered her so much, him acting out of his usual ways. However, she couldn't place a finger on what disturbed her more; His actions or the fact she cared.

Still she watched him take off after Harry, when the snitch had presumably caught his eye. She did acknowledge that they were both skilled seekers in their own right. She clutched absently at the gold hoop under her robe. She was growing strangely attached to the object.

She hoped Harry would catch the golden snitch. He was getting quite good at it.

Almost as soon as she'd thought it, Malfoy burst forward with a speed previously unseen and snatched the fluttering object tightly.

She booed when he caught the Snitch, right until his eyes found her effortlessly and her voice failed her.

OoOoOo

She still hadn't quite calmed down since the game. Even as she paced the Gryffindor common room Katie jumped when she heard approaching footsteps. She steeled herself for the face of Marcus Flint, which made no sense because he didn't have the password to get in here. Oh please let him not have the password. Instead she saw Hermione staring at her quizzically.

The younger witch took in Katie's appearance.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, quite," the elder girl bristled in defense with her nerves on edge.

"I'm sorry you just seemed... distracted."

"Distracted? Yes, I find that happening frequently these days."

"Whatever is the matter?"

Katie paused, frightened to even voice such a stupid event. There was a chance Hermione would think her insane. How could she say that she thought Marcus Flint had come on to her? Had he? Or had he been playing with her to see if she would break?

Her mind revisited the voice that had clawed its way inside her head. She could still vividly see the black horse with a dripping mane and bone muzzle.

"Have you ever seen something you didn't think was real?" Katie asked, unable to hold the question at bay any longer.

Hermione laughed genuinely. "I run around with Harry and Ronald. I've seen many things like that."

"Oh," Katie whispered sheepishly, "quite right. No, I mean have you ever… been…" she lacked the words to phrase it properly. How would she go about discussing this with anyone? She would give herself away to Hermione who was known to be as straight laced as they came in some respects. "Do you have knowledge of horses?"

"Horses?" the younger woman asked slightly confused by the change of topic. "I suppose I know as much as anyone might."

"Even magical horses?"

There was a pause, and her brown eyes were confused. "Katie, what are you getting at?"

"Have you seen many _magical_ horses?" Her voice pitched higher as she stumbled over the word 'magical'.

"Like the Unicorns?" Hermione questioned, not quite understanding. "Yes, in class as everyone has."

"No," she replied deflating, "not like unicorns."

"Then what?" Katie could tell Hermione's interest was piqued.

"Have you ever read anything on horses in water? Magical water horses?" If there even was such a thing.

Hermione's brows furrowed slightly. "Like Kelpies?"

"Kelpie? What's a kelpie?" She asked nearly frantically grasping at any information that might be locked away in that gorgeous brain of Hermione's.

"A magical water horse," she said slowly, as if she thought Katie was being obtuse on purpose.

Bell made a noise of distress. "No, no, I understood that part. What about the rest of it."

"Oh, well Kelpies usually are said to occupy streams and lakes."

"Lakes?!" Katie questioned with a bit more urgency and volume than needed

"Yes," Hermione replied suspicious. "Katie are you alright? Truly?"

"Yes, yes of course." She waved a hand dismissively. "You were saying?"

"Well they are nasty creatures who drown their victims in water and eat them."

The older Gryffindor blinked and shuddered at the information. There really wasn't terribly much she could say to something like that. It would however, explain the unease she'd felt the other night. Had it wanted to eat her? Strangely, she did not get the feeling that it had.

"They are said to have two forms," Hermione continued studiously, "one as a horse that if bridled on land and kept away from water will be the most loyal creature in existence. And the other is a beautiful woman."

"Woman?" Katie baulked abruptly. The creature had been decidedly male. "Are there male Kelpies?"

"No." She replied with a shake of her head.

"There is the hippocamp, but I think that is more unisex than owning a particular gender. Other speices would include The Ceffyl Dŵr, the Shoopiltie, the Nuggle, and various other shape shifters."

"Oh my," Katie's eyes widened at the growing list. "Are they all like the Kelpie?"

"Well they are normally described as male or female but yes, they all drown their victims in nearby water. Normally they appear in their animal form and lure unsuspecting travelers to their doom when they are touched."

She paled at the words. If she had touched the creature, it would have killed her. "What does touch have to do with drowning?"

"Well, there is some speculation that their skin has adhesive qualities and the victim is drug underwater by the creature where they are then dismembered and eaten."

She didn't feel very well. The air seemed a tad too warm and she panted short breaths.

"You look sickly," Hermione commented with clear concern. "Katie, did you see such a horse?"

She wanted to say yes.

_No._ The voice from before whispered in her thoughts. It coaxed and teased. Katie's breathing returned to normal as she felt a calming presence fill her. She fought against it desperately, but it overwhelmed her.

"No," she heard herself reply smoothly, "No, not at all. I was simply curious. It must have been my imagination, because clearly I am still here and not eaten at the bottom of a lake."

"Then why do you ask about water horses?" Hermione's head tilted as she appraised Katie.

"I… thought I saw something like it… in the lake."

"No, _Hogwarts, A History_ never mentioned anything like that living in there." She rushed to assure the Chaser.

"See there now, I must have been mistaken." She hadn't been mistaken. Perhaps that is what this was.

_Come to me. _

Hermione's hand on her wrist startled her so badly she flinched back. "You look flushed; do you want me to take you to Madam Pomfrey?"

Katie waved her off laughing. "No, she already checked me over after the bludger incident. I'm fine, a tad tired, but fine. I just was lost in thought."

The look of confused suspicion did not leave Hermione's eyes.

_Katie_.

She could feel dark eyes upon her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Dear Readers,**

**I had not realized that so many were enjoying the story. In light of this, I have decided to keep it going and have made my apologies to the original requester. Thank you all very much for your inspiring words. **

**Rated M, I own nothing. Dark and may be disturbing to some. **

OoOoOo

Malfoy was watching her across the room again. His blonde hair glinting in the light and she couldn't place the strange fluttering in her chest. It was more like fear than girlish delight. Her back was ramrod straight, and her fingers shook as she held tight to the only thing in her grasp.

_The wind howled, fiercely bellowing its rage. She shivered in the confines of the Great hall. Bodies were strewn about carelessly, like a child having finished playing with its toys. He stood in the center, his face one of pure feral desire. His laughter echoed off the walls. _

_She could not even flee._

_Something in his gaze held her fast. Her body was his for the bidding and for the taking. _

_She mewled, begging for touch. Her robes were torn part way down her body, revealing a creamy expanse of untainted skin. Unnatural eyes watched her from the shadows. Her veins thrummed knowing she was watched by him. _

_Ensnared. She'd never get away. He would never allow it. Not even death would keep her from him, she knew it._

_Pale hands stroked her. Tongue and teeth divested her of her inhibitions in equal measure. She drowned in a pool desire. Lust, hot and wanting danced in the air. Claw like nails scraped at her sides nearly playfully. Her breath caught in her throat as sharp teeth nipped at her navel. She arched into the sensation; strange amber-goat eyes watched her intently. His horns seemed as massive up close as his touch brought her to the precipice of pleasure-pain. Death was all around them, permeating the room when he laid her body down. She realized belatedly that there were tears in her eyes, and the gasps that escaped her lips were truly pleas for it to stop. _

_She hated what he made her feel because he was so very wicked. She knew he was evil, but not the depth of it. She despised him as he savored her. _

_Misshapen creatures leered at their coupling. Most held only one eye or one limb; they were twisted and sick like the beast fornicating with her. Strange colors and sinister smiles painted misshaped faces. Their bodies out of proportion and colored sickeningly. She shuddered and it was not from the unholy delight he wrought upon her body._

_She buried her head in his shoulder, careful to avoid the sharpened points of his second set of horns. His claws buried in her hair and pulled hard. His magic pushed into hers, his body equally as unyielding. _

_Hermione screamed, the bliss far too intense to ignore and she could feel him prodding for her weakness. He was waiting for her to crumble, and she was close to giving him what he wanted. _

_Jangles, bits, and gems in his hairs tinkled like a wind chime as he moved above her the sound mocking. The creatures danced as it whispered dark promises in her ear, pulling her closer. He wanted something from her, his magical force stronger than any she'd ever known as it kept her trembling beneath him. The blood of the slain dripped from his horns._

She snapped a quill in half before she realized what she was doing. Hermione startled awake from her daydream. Her confused and disoriented gaze landed on the parchment in front of her. She dropped the quill wordlessly on the desk. Her hand covered in ink and a small bit of blood. She withdrew her wand and cleaned the tiny cut with ease.

She could feel Malfoy as if he was physically beside her and that unnerved her more.

Hermione ran a hand through her tousled hair. She'd been having those same images run through her head with increasing frequency. Her annoyance had turned to worry and she was deeply disturbed. Part of her wondered if it wasn't because the sickness running rampant through the school. Luckily she had been unaffected so far. Those that had not been so fortunate were being quarantined in the hospital wing with one very upset Madame Pomfry.

It had come so suddenly, that no one had much time to think let alone do anything. Students fell over in the halls mid-step, their bodies covered in painful boils. Fever and delirium were common. It was understood that excuses would be given automatically to those experiencing symptoms or those that had to walk them to medical aid. Hermione had taken Cormac McLaggen this morning. His case had been particularly excruciating. So much so that he'd been forced to drain draughts simply to quell the rising screams that tore from his throat.

She couldn't get his pained expression out of her head. Merlin she needed rest.

She rubbed her tired eyes. Classes still went on as usual, but since the latest quidditch match, things around the campus grounds had gotten… strange. Even Malfoy wasn't his normal gloating self. He was still a pompous git, but it was much harder to describe the subtle differences in him. She was inclined to believe the Dark Lord had something to do with it, but Harry who was still battling this unknown plague, claimed not to feel anything amiss.

Maybe it was the Dark Lord, or maybe it was something unfortunately natural. Strangely, it did not appear magical. Harry said he would know the difference if the Dark Lord had caused it.

She scoffed. There were times Harry wouldn't know what was what without a map and neon signs. There was something strange going on and her terrifying day dreams just further proved that. She'd been reading up on Occulemency to try and fortify her mind against intrusion. Her practice of it had seemed rather futile as, according to everything in the text, no one was trying to enter her mind.

Still she could not shake the feeling in the pit of her stomach that someone was inside her thoughts at certain times. She had also not missed the correlation with the rain. It was worse whenever there was rain. Her fingers snagged in a knot between chestnut colored strands. She shook herself. The feeling that she was never alone intensified.

What was going on?

"Are you alright?" Katie Bell whispered from beside her.

She blinked rapidly pulling herself away from her thought tangent. Hermione offered a weak smile. They were in their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Today had been all about famous defenses and the history of its creation. A period of mostly note taking, something Hermione usually enjoyed. It was wrapping up and students were hurrying to put their things away. She could scarcely recall anything past the first few minutes.

How much time had she lost to her distraction? Where was she moments ago? She looked closely at Katie who seemed concerned.

"Yes, fine."

A knowing look entered the other girl's eyes. "You and I both know that means you are far from fine."

True.

"So what's really wrong?"

Hermione cracked a real smile. "Just a headache." She said forthcoming with the building pain in her temples. That happened a lot more lately as well.

"That is unfortunate, do you want to go lay down for a while?"

"No," she did not want to dream right now.

Katie remained silent, unsure of what to say, and Hermione could tell she was worried. Contrary to popular belief, Hermione did not know everything. She _searched_ out her answers by reading and retained the knowledge far better than her peers. That is what made her exceptional. It wasn't talent, but hard work. A lot of hard work, which had often left her feeling rather isolated at time. Yet, there was a kinship between herself and Katie Bell.

There was something that made them similar after a fashion, but Hermione could not name what it was.

"May I ask you something?" Hermione inquired, breaking the compatible silence as they shuffled to put items away.

"Of course," The Gryffindor chaser replied confidently.

Her lips were dry, and felt uncomfortable on her face as she searched for the proper words. "You remember when you asked me about magic horses?"

Katie nodded and gave her a sympathetic look before her fingers twitched and her eyes glazed over as if she were seeing something far away. She was staring out the window, the first splattering of rain jumped against the window pane.

Now it was Hermione's turn to be concerned. "I think the better question is, are you alright?"

"Just some thoughts," Katie replied slightly hoarse. "Nothing worth mentioning," Her tone was almost wary.

"About water horses?" she teased slightly.

The older girl laughed the sound slightly hollow. Neither one was brave enough to state what they were both obviously feeling. Only silly girls were afraid of nothing.

"I swear I must be going stark raving mad."

Hermione was tempted to confess that there were days she felt that way to. Her mind was having such a terrible time concentrating lately and she still had that golden hoop on a chain around her neck. It was innocuous and every few minutes she couldn't help but reach up to touch it.

"It's just that," she started again, going back to her original question, "this horse-you may or may not have seen-did it ever give you a sort of lucid dream?"

Katie contemplated her for a moment; the taller girl appeared to be weighing her memories. "No, nothing like that," she confessed after a time. "It did feel real at some points during, but… I knew I wasn't _there_."

Hermione deflated slightly at the words. She had thought, or rather hoped… Katie's mystery horse could be responsible for her sudden daydreams. It would have wrapped everything up in a tidy little package but all of her research did not credit such beings with the capability and now she was forced to believe it was true.

It was deeply exasperating.

"Why?" The inquisitive voice of her friend reached her ears.

"I'm not certain," Hermione responded frowning and looking generally displeased. "I have these… daydreams. I suppose you could call them that."

Silence stretched between them for a single heartbeat.

"About a black horse with a tangled wet mane?" Katie's voice edged higher toward the end of the question as if she were afraid of the answer.

"No," her eyes focused on the doorway momentarily as she picked up her bag.

"Oh." Relief and disappointment were nearly palatable in her tone.

"You never mentioned that the horse was black," Hermione said suddenly.

Katie rose with her, as they began to depart the classroom.

"I didn't?" her tone was slightly surprised.

"No."

"Does it matter?"

Hermione frowned. "I do not know if it does, honestly."

Katie sighed; seemingly weary as they walked along the now empty corridor. It was Hermione's last class of the day and she was in no hurry to go anywhere in particular. Neither was her friend. They walked a ways, and down a flight of steps that moved with them.

"Are they… very involved? Your daydreams?" Katie asked quietly, as if afraid to voice the question.

"Sometimes they seem frightfully real."

That faraway look was back in Katie's eyes as she cast her gaze downward suddenly interested in the floor.

"It's always a nightmare for me," the taller girl admitted once they'd rounded the nearest corner. "It starts with a storm."

Katie drew in a shuddering breath; her eyes darted from side to side as if she were searching for someone. Or afraid someone might overhear. Her hands were gripped tightly around her bag, as if she needed a lifeline to hold onto.

"Mine start with the wind blowing so fiercely and the Great hall." Hermione whispered confused and frightened as she relived the memory. It grew harder and harder to recall the longer she thought about it. She tried to grasp the memory until only a vague impression of what it might have been remained. The feelings it invoked, however, were much harder to forget.

Two sets of ashen faces stared at each other, more haunted than any student attending Hogwarts should be and all this while the ever constant threat of war loomed before them. Hermione reached out a hand to touch the other girl with a compassionate reassurance.

She tried to smile and give comfort, but it was not to be found by either of them. Haunting amber-goat eyes flashed in her thoughts and she pulled back, half-dazed. The wind was howling, just like in her nightmare and she flinched.

Rain pelted outside and they could see it through the heavy glass. It was Katie's horror and hers that had them both clutching at their wands instinctually.

Hermione started to dislike storms.

Footsteps echoed as lightening flashed, and thunder roared across the sky. They were nearly in time with the chaotic nature of the weather that raged outside the castle.

Hermione turned her head, catching the movement, and watched as none other than Draco Malfoy, stride toward them. His eyes never left hers.

"Granger," he said nearly stoically with only a hint of a leer on his lips. His face became less animated as he turned to Katie. "Bell."

"Malfoy," Hermione replied while Katie nodded in his direction.

His hawkish eyes clashed with hers. "Marcus has been looking for you," he informed Bell with an aristocratic smirk.

"Flint?" She asked in a choked voice. "Marcus Flint?"

"No. Well that one too I suppose." Something in his eyes made Katie flinch. "I meant Marcus Belby," He replied nonplussed.

Hermione watched Katie bite the inside of her cheek as she contemplated his words. "And… he told _you_ that?"

Silently the warning flags in the girls' heads went up. He looked at Granger, his eyes heated and dark at the same time. She shivered under the weight of his stare. It seemed far too intimate and dangerous to be directed at her. However, there was no mistaking the fact that he was looking at her.

The molten color of silver swirled playfully in his eyes.

Perhaps she was too hard on Draco. He really wasn't such a bad sort. She hadn't really ever given him a chance, had she? Not properly at least, and she'd been able to give Ron so many. It did not seem fair to her sense of morality to deny him the same token of a chance.

"No, not Belby directly. I overheard him speaking on my way over. I passed by him while he was chatting with Johnson."

"Oh, well… thank you for telling me." Her voice still sounded suspicious. "We do have Charms together." She turned to Hermione. "I do not have to go right this instant. We can walk to dinner together. I will find him afterward."

Malfoy hummed knowingly in this throat. "It did sound important Bell."

Her pride reared at his words. "Either way, I am sure the world will not end if I wait-"

"I will see you at dinner then Katie," Hermione interrupted gently, not wanting to keep the other Gryffindor from the Ravenclaw that was looking for her or to appear weak in front of Malfoy of all people.

A look of surprise flashed across Katie's face. "Are you sure-?" the question was not finished, but the implication was laid bare.

Katie didn't trust Malfoy, and neither did Hermione, but they were safe at Hogwarts. Nothing bad could happen here. She gave one slight nod, dismissing the other girl's concerns. She waved Katie goodbye and started back toward her goal of the safety of the Gryffindor tower. She tried not to scowl when Malfoy fell into step beside her.

"Haven't seen much of you lately, Granger." He said, breaking the icy silence between them.

She nodded thoughtfully. She'd been trying to avoid him. She knew it, and she knew he did to.

"I heard McLaggen ended up in the infirmary," his eyes trailed over her and she felt terribly vulnerable next to him. It was not a good feeling.

"Yes," she replied if only to not feel so hunted simply by walking next to him.

Why was she walking with him? She couldn't stand him. He'd always been a terrible person to her.

As Harry and Ron had been terrible to Malfoy. As James Potter had been a right bully to Professor Snape. Perhaps it wasn't entirely fair to characterize Malfoy as the antagonist all of the time.

She shook her head and pushed away at the vapid thoughts.

"Shame that." Malfoy's tone indicated it was anything but. "You two looked so cozy during the last match."

"Cozy?" She asked perplexed by his meaning.

"Hm," the noncommittal and thoughtful noise provoked her to feel as if she were in a viper's nest. "You two were sitting together."

Hermione was confused what that had to do with anything. She had sat next to dozens of people during the course of this school year alone. Cormac was not special in that aspect. He had merely been there.

His eyes were piercing; she stared at the molten sliver swirling in them.

"We were," she replied slowly, and truthfully. She felt as if she would never lie to Malfoy. Even if it was only to be able to show him what honesty actually was.

"And now he's laid up in a bed in the infirmary."

Hermione scowled at him. His air of superiority was back in full swing. His implying that her sitting next to McLaggen had gotten him sick was laughable. Why, being around Malfoy was more likely to harm someone physically.

A thought struck her and caused her to shake. Her voice came out softer than she'd expected.

"Did you do something to him?"

"Why would I?" His tone wasn't affronted; it was as if he were waiting for her to tell him something he already knew. "Better yet, how could I?"

Instinct cautioned her to tread lightly.

"I don't know," her honest reply had him smirking evilly. Her heart raced in her chest at the sight of his nearly unholy face. "But you did."

"Did I? How _scandalous_."

Another face flashed in her mind and she backpedaled as if he would burn her. Her mind screamed at her to get away. To run. His teeth gleamed and the shape wasn't quite correct. Had they always looked like that? What-?

"What's the matter Granger?" His sinful lips curled upward as his eyes never left her frightened visage.

Her gaze waivered at the sight of him. He was standing in front of her with that same self-indulgent smirk he always had.

She wasn't frightened. No. Why would she ever be afraid? She was angry. Yes, she was furious that Malfoy had been making fun of Cormac for being sick.

"How dare you?" She asked with her voice low and full of suppressed rage. "Do you have no decency? No compassion for your fellow man?"

A leer was her answer.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you all for reading and hearty thanks to those that have reviewed. **

**Now, supposedly, most Scottish men call their lovers (females) "Doll". Does anyone know if this is true or not? Do we have any Scots in the audience? **

**If not, let's pretend I am right and simply go with it.**

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She looked high and low for Belby. Katie was starting to get more than a little annoyed. For someone that wished to speak to her, he was conspicuously absent from the great hall, library, Ravenclaw common room, and just about every other place a normal student would be. She could feel her anxiety hitting an all-time high at the thought that Malfoy had successfully lured her away from Hermione.

Something felt wrong about this night. It was the feeling of being on edge because something bad was going to happen. It was all together vague and unsettling. She hoped that he had not taken ill like the others. She, as a healthy student, was forbidden from the infirmary until they cleared up whatever nasty bout of sickness that was tearing through the school with frightening potency.

It was well past the dinner hour, and her stomach rumbled unhappily at her denying it sustenance. She would have gone to eat, but she'd been searching all over the school for her missing Charms partner. Katie pulled her hair back and secured it as she squared her shoulders. She would look for a few more minutes and then go back to the Gryffindor tower.

If she were incredibly lucky, she'd be able to find him, and still get back in time to check on Hermione. If anything had happened to the girl, she'd hex Malfoy even at the cost of house points. She still had not gotten over losing to Slyterin during the last game. It irked her to no end that they had lost to the deceptive house of Hogwarts.

Speaking of other houses, she still had to see if Leanne was able to go with her to the village at the next possible juncture. She was running low on parchment and ink. Perhaps there would be-

_Katie._

Her head snapped up, and her earlier musings were lost to the winds of time. Shivers coursed down her body. The hair on the nape of her neck stood on end.

Out of the corner of her vision, she saw something dark move. She froze.

She was too afraid to move. Her limbs felt paralyzed at her sides. Her luminous eyes widened as the shadow-clad figure came toward her. Time seemed to freeze as the familiar but unwelcomed face of Marcus Flint registered in her mind.

"What do you want?" She asked before she understood it was her voice speaking.

She drew back as his lither body stalked toward her. His face was brooding and his eyes were nearly unnaturally bright.

"I would have thought that obvious by now," he replied cryptically.

Katie's instincts warned her to get as far away from him as possible.

"No," she said cautiously. "No, it is not." Her face must have betrayed some of her apprehension for he leered at her. The smell of the ocean followed him, and Katie blinked at how unusual that was.

Her thoughts were out of focus, but she tilted her face to look up at him. Flint being so near was out of the norm for them. It broke the boundaries she had for personal space. He was close. Too close. She dimly registered him tugging at her hair tie. When he had moved, she did not know. Fear prickled her senses.

"What are you-?"

"You look better with your hair down." As he said the words, her hair tumbled in waves around her shoulders. Something in his eyes glowed.

"Stop," she said slightly panicked.

His misshapen teeth showed through his sneer. "What are you doing out all by your lonesome?"

She wet her dry lips and swallowed. Her gaze darted around him in the vain hope that someone might pass by and rescue her from his company.

"Looking for Marcus," Katie said foolishly.

An unstable glint entered his gaze. "And, here I am."

"No," she said shaking her head, hating the way her hair swished with the gesture. "Not you."

He watched her closely.

"Marcus Belby," she said after a moment to break the awkward silence.

"Belby?" He murmured displeased. "You are wandering the halls _alone_ to find _Belby_?"

His body drew closer toward hers and she could almost feel the heat radiating from him, but for some reason it left her feeling cold.

He grabbed a tendril of her hair and brought it to his lips. His dark eyes, which had not been so dark before surely, watched her without blinking. She could drown in those pools of secrecy, for there was something wholly mysterious about him. It held an air of malicious destruction that caused her to quake at the knees.

Katie's lower lip trembled, crystalline tears pooled in her eyes. There was something heinously wrong with Marcus Flint.

His breath was hot on the side of her cheek. She stared resolutely ahead, afraid to make contact with those hypnotizing calamitous eyes.

"You should be more careful," Flint murmured to her quietly. His voice was low and slightly gruff. His lips teased the outer shell of her hear, brushing it as he spoke. "It is dangerous to be out alone. You never know what you might encounter."

Katie's mouth opened in a silent scream. The air around them seemed to almost crackle with power and magic. _Wild magic_. Magic that pulsated with the very strings of nature, unruly and dangerous, pushed at her. It was terrifying, beautiful, and consuming all at once.

The magic danced across her skin, pinching, pulling, pushing, and demanding. She fought against it, but it seemed futile. It was drowning her. Drowning out her magic, and ripping it to shreds. Katie was too young and inexperienced to stop it and the distraction cost her dearly.

He took a hold of the opportunity and placed a kiss upon her lips. The touch was staggering, and had she been able, Katie would have struggled in his hold. Her mind rebelled at the contact. It was not a gentle touching of lips, but nearly bruising in force as he crushed her to him.

_Give in_.

That bewitching voice whispered through her thoughts like a lover's caress, but it felt tainted somehow.

Katie could not push Flint away as he ravaged her mouth. Her hands hung limply at her sides as he flattened the contours of her body to his.

'_Stop_.' She thought in blind dismay.

_Katie._

Her name, so wantonly said, spoke of lust and defilement.

Her heart shuttered nearly to a stand-still. What was this? Something was working within her. Hot wanting rushed through her body against her will. She managed a strangled noise of distress before it was cut off.

'_No,_' her thoughts screamed as Marcus moved his lips from her mouth to her neck, his teeth felt painfully sharp as he nipped the delicate flesh. He seemed to sense her despair as a groan, not quite human escaped him. The tears slipped down her flushed cheeks, and she shivered as his tongue laved a path upward.

He was licking up her tears, drinking in the salty essence.

"Perfect," he purred gutturally.

Her body began to burn. It ached and her stomach twisted at his words. She felt polluted by his words and actions. He pulled back, eager to look at her face. His eyes were alight with sinister delight and dark pleasure swam in the depths.

'_No_,' her mind screamed again. She shoved mentally against the power that invaded her thoughts. Images flashed, hastily constructed walls pushed into place. They did not hold. He was far stronger than she had dared imagine. His hands swept up her body slowly.

_Yes._

A keening wail rose in her thoughts, her throat unable to bring sound to it. The muscles of her throat contracted painfully, as his hand enclosed around her breast.

Long fingers gripped her harshly. His hooded eyes watched gleefully as her face shifted in genuine pain.

"You taste delicious, just as I imagined you would." He whispered in godless abandon.

It was the final straw that allowed her to shove him out of her mind, if only for an instant. Her hands clenched defiantly as her body felt as if it were awakened from a long sleep. Her fingertips tingled against the wild magic.

"You bastard," she hissed, with eyes that flashed retribution.

She reached for her wand, as his eyes narrowed in ill-disguised interest. She bristled in anger that he did not even appear afraid of her. He had molested her and forced himself on her person, the least he should be was repentant. He wasn't and it was plain to see. His smirk gave him away.

"I assure you, my parents are very much married," he said calmly.

She sputtered in rage. Her face flushed by his ministrations and his audacity.

"I'll kill you," she threatened.

He looked at her a moment and then threw his head back and laughed. The sound caused her to still. It was not the reaction she expected and on some level it unnerved her. Something was dangerously off about Marcus Flint.

"_Furnunculus_," she screeched in heightened emotion.

Silence reigned. Katie felt bereft of safety as she stared at the gloating visage of Marcus Flint.

"Katie, come to me," he stood looming toward her. His presence seemed to swallow up the space around them again. She could not stop the trembling in neither her limbs nor the flutter of fear that danced across her heart.

She quickly shook her head in abject denial of his demand.

"_Impedimenta_!" The girl tried with a tinge of desperation lacing her words.

Her wand refused to work. Katie stared at it agape in horror. She tried to cast the spells necessary to defend her, or attack Flint but nothing came of it. The magic would not rise to focus through her wand. She could not focus it.

His teeth were bared in a feral smile. He chastised her with a tsking sound.

"Now, now, doll. Can't have that, can we?" His wink goaded her into trembling with fear.

"What have you done to me?" She asked shakily.

His silhouette in the torchlight screamed of power and destruction. Her lower lip trembled as her hand retained a vice like grip on her wand.

"Done? That is such an interesting word," his voice was deceptively teasing but the undercurrent of deadly intent. "It is so open to interpretation…Bell."

"Interpretation?" She shook. "What did you do to me?" She demanded with more of her spirit returning.

"You shouldn't fight me, doll."

"I'm not a damn doll."

"_Expelliarmus,"_ he said calmly. Her wand was ripped out of her hand before she could do so much as blink. It landed on the stone floor and skidded a few feet away.

She'd never reach it in time.

He made a noncommittal sound. His lean body stalked toward her as she backpedaled away from him. A sense of hopelessness spread through her, making her legs tremble. It came on so suddenly and strongly that it did not feel natural.

Katie tried to push against the feeling, to dismiss it. All of her attempts were laughable by comparison to his overwhelming presence.

Thunder rumbled across the sky like an angry growl from a dangerous animal. The girl shook and flinched away from the sound. IT was the herald of a storm and of something far more sinister than her instinct could name.

"Stay away from me," she sounded pathetic even to her own ears.

Flint smiled. She hated that smile instantly.

"I-I mean it."

"I'm sure you do," he replied sinfully. The depraved tone in his voice twined with the wild magic spilling forth.

Katie shuddered under his obvious perusal of her body. Her hand clenched tighter around her wand, drawing it closer to her smaller frame. She felt suddenly vulnerable even though she was in a place that should have been safe from people like Flint.

He breathed deeply, as if scenting the air.

"Your terror is so very _appealing."_

Her face twisted in disbelief at his words.

"You disgust me," she spat with apprehension.

"Flattery? Why Katie, darling, you surprise me." He said amusedly. His eyes narrowed on her. Deadly intent was clearly written on his face.

She glared at him, backing up further. The magic in the air shifted and caused her pause. A force felt nearly overpowering, as it had that night by the lake.

A deep and profound sense of _understanding_ filled her.

His grey eyes changed until they were unnaturally colored. The image of the terrifyingly beautiful horse from that night burned into her mind. She was flooded with a torrent of images. Her memories and his merged and parted.

It let her disoriented and possessing the knowledge of the depths he would go to force her to come to him. The feeling of him was evil.

_Not evil._ Her senses waivered and Katie shook her head. No he was evil and dangerous.

_Safe_.

Not safe. Dangerous. Evil. Coming toward her. Watching her. The eyes were his eyes. His eyes!

She gasped. Her gaze was glued to his. His wicked smile sent chills down her spine and common sense flooded her.

"Oh pet," he rumbled sensuously, "don't fight me."

She ran. Her foot caught on an uneven loose stone and she toppled to the floor. Her body slapped the hard surface with a painful thud and she let out a noise of discomfort. Fear pushed her onward to get further away from him. Dread and panic made her body lighter than it had ever been. Her muscles coiled and sprang to her bidding. Instantly she was back on her feet, bolting for the nearest doorway.

_I adore when you run, Katie._ The voice taunted her cruelly.

Her insides clenched at the jab.

_Come to me._

'_Never,' _she pushed back vehemently.

She would rather get as far away from him as was possible.

_Why fight the inevitable?_

It was not inevitable. She refused to allow it to be so. She'd have him thrown out of school and into Azkaban as soon as was humanly possible.

_You think that will keep you from __**me**__?_

She had to see the Headmaster, or a professor.

_You cannot escape me Katie._ The voice grew cold and amused, causing her to bolt faster.

The weight of dark eyes followed her as she tore down the halls. She wanted to find safety. Someone, anyone would be welcomed at this point, but there was no refuge in sight.

The echo of his laughter bounced off the walls of her skull. It was in every thought and it rang in her ears. The mocking sound thrummed in her veins. The scent of the sea, bitter and salty hung in the air.

The clamor of a sky splitting whinny resounded down the halls. The challenge was clear in the cry. Her heart hammered in her chest and her breath came out in desperate pants. Her eyes were wide with unrepentant panic. Katie knew by instinct that he was coming for her. The sound of hoof beats on the stone floors chased after her quick steps. Her hair and robes flew behind her as she ran for dear life.

She had no idea, as she rounded the nearest corner, that the Death Eaters were moments from an assault on Hogwarts.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello my lovelies! **

**Thank you to all that have read and reviewed! Please let me know what you think!**

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There was a moment of absolute silence. Terrifying in its intensity as it expounded through the night and the anticipation of something while there was nothing.

Within the sturdy walls of Hogwarts, warded against the dangers of the outside world, it was thought, Katie Bell ran for her life and Hermione Granger was trying to quell the sense of unease that rippled through her. It was not divination, for that was all hogwash and frivolous guessing. No, there was only the overwhelming feeling or perhaps a knowing sense that understood death was coming.

As a younger girl, Hermione had clung to the well-recognized image of a pale man, or the pale bones of a man covered in a billowing black cloak to be the personification of death. When she'd first seen dementors, she thought briefly, that she had finally come face to face with the one who would never be truly cheated. It had not been so, though she had been thoroughly shaken by the encounter for some time afterward.

Death was far more dangerous because it came like a thief in the night. Unknown until it was already upon them. The pale hands of death gripped at the lives of many this night, and some small part of Hermione sensed it was coming.

But only seconds before the hideous followers of Lord Voldermort poured forth down the halls.

This night had found her as it had many a time before, holed up in the library absorbing knowledge. Hermione knew this room inside and out, she loved the scent of musty tomes and the feel of the weight of these books in her hands.

She had once loved thunderstorms as well. That love had cooled and died suddenly on the heels of evenings she barely recalled. Her mind could not summon the rhyme nor reason why she no longer gazed out at the pouring rain with joy or contentment. However, she did know that it frightened her now. On this night especially.

Her body shivered in the cold.

Unbeknownst to her, several floors below, four students lay dead. Unfortunate second years that had entered the wrong hall at precisely the wrong moment. One Ravenclaw scarf was caught by the feet of a Death Eater who'd only paused long enough to step over the body. As if avenging its mistress, it toppled the man to the ground with a fierce tug. Her limp body jerked with the motion. Like the dead trying to halt the inevitable.

And it was inevitable, but Hermione curled up in her cozy library was not aware of the creeping plague of Death.

Lighting flashed across the sky, heralding a doomed school further into the pits of darkness that blanketed the land. Her eyes watched for a moment out the window, her lips pulled into a slight frown. She could not concentrate. Something whirled in the back of her mind, ever present and distracting.

She read the same sentence twice.

Three stories below, a boy from Hufflepuff choked slowly on his own blood. Crimson liquid bubbled forth in his mouth. His hands scrambled madly, looking for some purchase to shove a large creature off of him. Had his lung not bee punctured, he might have managed a shout of warning to the others. Had his wand not been snatched from him and snapped in front of his slowly dimming eyes, he might have had a chance to defend himself. Had he known this would happen, he might have lived.

He died, without anyone to know of his passing, impaled like a bug on a pin. His body seized in the last precious moments of life he'd tried so valiantly to cling to.

The creature laughed, dark and sinister. The boy's blood dripped from its horns as it pulled out with a sickening squishing sound.

Hermione closed her book with a huff of frustration. The half-term was coming and she needed to concentrate, but the thoughts slipped through her like fine water through her fingers. The hair on the back of her neck prickled, signaling the first strains of fear. Her magic danced and twisted within her as she recognized the use of other magic. She was too far from it to truly contemplate what was being used, but she could only surmise that someone was practicing in anticipation of exams.

Two floors up, Katie Bell slammed a door shut with all of her might as she threw her body weight against it. She prayed it would hold. Silence, broken only by her harsh panting and coursing fear reigned. Her only conscious thoughts were of terror, fleeing, and the possibility of death claiming her. Death that would assuredly come in the form of Marcus Flint.

Her chest heaved as if on fire. She hadn't the slightest inkling tat he wasn't entirely human. She'd made jokes aplenty about him having troll blood, but he was no troll. She'd never even considered that he might be the terrifyingly beautiful horse from that night. However, he was. After all that Hermione had said, she feared he would eat her.

After all, that is what every water horse did. Though the feminine side of her warned none too gently that it was doubtful whatever he was simply wanted dinner. For he had kissed her, and while it made bile rise in her throat, it also frightened her. She would take death readily over being claimed through rape.

The first bone-jarring slam against the door had her heart leaping in her throat. She could feel a nearly tangible quality to the wild magic whirling on the other side of the barrier. She needed help. She needed a way to fight at the very least, but there was nothing. If she left the door, for even an instant, he would come through and all would be lost.

The second attack against the door caused it to groan, almost as if it were pained. The wood shifted, and Katie knew it would splinter at the rate it was going. She scrambled back toward the door, desperately trying to push her magic into it. A door could be a conduit surely, for her. It yielded nothing.

The last harsh shove toppled her to the stone floor, and she moved to crawl away from it as fast as was possible. A loud whinny of triumph rent the air nearly in twain. Her heart was in her throat, and her body shook like a leaf in the wind.

Two wickedly gleaming hooves, accompanied by claw protrusions kicked open the door. The loud slap of wood upon stone caused her to flinch. She could not tear her eyes away from the sight she beheld. Marcus was death incarnate, with his unnaturally lit eyes and sopping mane. She blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. His mane was black and looked almost as if it were seaweed. Or…

"Waterweed," she whispered in horror.

The beast in front of her tossed its massive head from side to side as if in amusement. It was serpent like in some of the movements. Katie loathed him almost as much as she could not bare to tear her gaze from him.

_Katie. No more running._

Katie Bell allowed the tears she'd kept at bay to fall freely.

Two floors below, Hermione Granger knew something was undeniably terribly wrong.

In the Infirmary, the patients still suffering from the mysterious plague were put down like mad dogs. Their bodies were too weak and frail to even muster a half-hearted defense. Bright explosions of green painted the walls in a strangely pretty light as they were executed.

In hallways, the Death Eaters stormed each room systematically. Those that had already turned in for the night never awoke. Their minds never knew they had been slain by spells too dark to fathom. Blood pooled in a sticky mess on the floor. Beds were littered with the corpses of the students they had supported.

The billowing black cloaks and marks of a snake being eaten by a skull flooded every nook and crevice of the Castle that had once only brought wonder. Some children were killed in a quick manner, but those that roamed the grounds were used as toys for a vicious pack of werewolves. Those unfortunate souls were torn limb from limb like a tasty snack, while others were forced to endure something far worse than a painful death.

Fenir Greyback howled his blood lust to the dark night eagerly. The deepened response of his pack, filled with pleasure and tender flesh pierced over the sound of the thunder. Lightening illuminated their mad grins of delight with feral teeth and blood matted fur. True things of nightmares preened in sheer delight of the godless evening.

The brief flashes of light allowed the outlines of winged-creatures to be seen. They littered the sky and added to the darkness. Talons and out stretched teeth gave warning to their predatory nature. Those that had been fortunate enough to escape the wolves were not able to escape the claws of those that dove and pierced their flesh. The winged-ones picked them up, in pain and terror reveling in the cries, only to drop them from heights that were fatal.

Mortality weighed heavily on those which attempted to live.

In the Castle, screams were silenced effectively and some, far too off-key to be human laughter echoed, as cackles of insane glee drifted through the thick atmosphere of slaughter.

Five floors beneath that, the students who had managed to flee toward the great hall met grizzly ends, as the Professors fought valiantly to shield them from the worst of the volley of deadly spells. Some of the older students in turn, shot off an erratic list of spells hoping to hit their intended targets.

Their efforts proved in vain.

Chaos reigned in the heat of battle. Students, who were sided with the Death Eaters, turned on the terrified masses like vipers in a pit. Their betrayal quickly turned the tide. Stings of hexes, blood, magic, and lives were changed and lost in on the few breaths which truly matter when fighting for the chance to survive. In the throng of battle, no one knew who was with which side or who was a threat. Friends turned against one another, teachers attacked students, and death prevailed like a King on his throne.

The stone, once gray and cold, became rich with crimson and the warmth of those that bled life into the hall. The storm raged on overhead. Booming thunder mocked the scene like laughter over the antics of those locked in a desperate struggle. Hands, fists, legs, feet, teeth, and any other body part which could become a weapon quickly did so. They scrapped, fought, tilted, and fell beside each other.

Bellows, not human in nature, echoed the encroaching thunder; A challenge to the sky and the night. Lightening flashed in answer. The leering faces of twisted creatures underneath masks that bore a poor imitation of demise met the haunted faces of the innocent. Their intention was very plain to see and understand.

_Eradication_.

What they strove for was total and flawless victory against the future of Hogwarts. Wolves, snakes, monsters, and all manner of creatures once only deemed real in fairytales eviscerated the unsuspecting congregation of magic born.

The last witch fell with a keening cry of despair so strong that it stilled even the creatures of the night.

Her light and life were quickly snuffed out without any pretense.

Hogwarts, like Troy and other impenetrable cities of old, had fallen from within and now it would _burn_.

All of this was unknown to the Hermione Granger, as she packed up her things to head for Gryffindor tower. Her movements were unhurried as fear raced down her spine in long shivers. Worry puckered at her brow and she hoped that Cormac McLaggen was doing better, or that Harry and Ron were keeping out of trouble.

The soft click, like something sharp tapping on a book, drew her attention toward the sound.

Hermione failed to stop the scream of horror that ripped from her throat.

Her bag clattered to the floor, spilling ink, quills, and parchment with abandon. Her body froze at the sight of amber-goat eyes as his lips curled into a sinful smile. Claw-like fingers tapped the book again, she shook. Her neck muscles were locked upward. He was so very tall that he towered even at the distance between them. The golden loop one her necklace felt warm against her skin. With incredulity she noticed that it matched some the jangles, bits, and gold in his hair. Dark hair, which twisted and twined nearly as savage as he appeared, caught her eyes. His eyes watched her intently, his face was a nearly perfect porcelain mask marred only by the animal nature apparent in him.

His sliver horns tilted in her direction, as if he were nodding at her. The tips and spikes were nearly beautiful in their delicate ridge work. An image flashed through her thoughts, of her dreams and the blood that normally dripped from horns such as his.

The young witch shuddered involuntarily.

Her stomach clenched tightly, and she nearly forgot to breathe. Her body, realizing the inherent danger this male presented, stepped backward reflexively.

She could not shake the vague sense, behind the fear welling in her stomach, that she'd seen him before. It was impossible for she could never forget something that looked like him.

Something in her warred and baulked at the idea that something wasn't correct, but it was heatedly forgotten as the creature moved toward her gracefully. His steps were the embodiment of imminent demise.

She belatedly remembered her wand. With a small cry of combined fright and determination she snatched back her hand feeling her magic bleed into the magic conduit. She fired several spells in succession. It would have been impressive.

Had he not simply lowered his horns and allowed the jets of multi-colored attacks bounce off with disinterest. Upon her bird curse, he speared a few of them with small swipes of his head. His eyes never left her. Hermione shook harder. Her courage was fading as quickly as her morale.

"Wh-what are you?" She asked shaken to the very core.

His perfect lips parted and his gaze narrowed on the startled face she made.

"_Slytherin_," his voice was soft and smooth like the finest silk.

The reply whipped across her as if she'd been struck by a live wire. Her hand began to tremble as she kept her wand trained on him.

She swallowed hard, nearly unable to process what she was seeing, let alone doing. "What?" She asked in confusion.

His hair moved, and the bits jangled like a wind chime, the sound soft and melodious. She enjoyed the sound at the same time her limbs felt heavy with terror. The hop around her neck warmed again, as he took a step closer toward her. His features, high and nearly sculpted, turned predatory as he smiled at her. His sharpened teeth, drove home the point that she was standing before something very dangerous.

_Evil._

The word flittered across her thoughts.

Darkness nearly followed in his wake as he moved toward her intently.

"I knew you'd be here," his words were a frightening caress against her mind. Her skin tingled in response as she tried to increase the distance between them. He stalked her, and she could not stop her body from determining that flight was far preferable to fight. Instinct told her she would not stand a chance against him.

He was the personification of evil and darkness. Was he a demon? She did not know, and she feared the answer. He did not look as she'd seen in the texts she'd read. He was wholly unknown and that terrified her on a much deeper level. She was not accustomed to the unknown.

Her limpid eyes met his inhuman ones.

"_Hermione._" He said her name as if the taste of it on his tongue would never be enough. "It is rude to try and leave in the middle of a conversation."

He was correct, and she nearly blushed in embarrassment at her rudeness. How could she be so unkind to such a…

No, this wasn't right. She was afraid of him. How did he know her name?

Because he knew everything about her, how could she forget him so easily? She must have been overtired from her extended studies in the library. She'd been busy and rushed. He had been so patient in waiting for her attention. She could not believe how cruel she was to treat him so unkindly.

She even had her wand pointed at him no less!

"I'm sorry," she replied nearly aghast in a new kind of horror at the situation.

He smiled at her, filled with unrepentant delight.

She felt foolish. The storm must have riled her up. She'd never much cared for them. All those nights she'd spent huddled under the covers of her bed trying to pretend the wind wasn't howling outside. Hermione lowered her wand steadily, and hastily put it away.

"You'll find I am in quite a forgiving mood," he murmured as his body neared hers. He was so tall, nearly as large as Hagrid, if not slightly taller. She turned her face upward toward his. She blinked once, and tried to puzzle out why her heart rate was so fast.

It was likely because he was so close to her. Heat warmed her body and sent shivers to places she'd rarely felt them. His claw like fingers rested on her hips, gripping her tightly to him.

He was so kind to forgive her; even if he was incredibly dangerous, and a monster. No, not a monster, just someone who wanted her close, she had to be close to him. She would never escape him, not even in death. He'd keep her safe. However, she knew his safety always came at a price.

His unnatural eyes were upon her and she knew she was stalling.

Stalling from what though?

His sinister horns winked at her playfully in the torchlight as he bent toward her. "The things you make me want to do," he intoned salaciously, as he leaned his body into hers. The backs of her legs pressed into a table, and he pinned her there with his weight.

His aura screamed of death, defilement, and malicious intent.

"I don't understand," she replied truly confused.

His hair jangled again, as he nipped at her necklace with his teeth. The golden hoop slid across her chest with his pull. Something altogether harmful and immoral shone in his eyes and she was powerless to look away. The goat-like slights held her fast.

"You will," he promised harshly, as the screams of the dying finally reached her ears.


	8. Chapter 8

**Oh Thank you for all of the feedback! It is so very appreciated. **

**Also, we did have Clarabelle respond that no 'Doll' in not a term of endearment in the same fashion I thought it was. Curse you internet! You used to be reliable… oh wait…**

**Thank you Clarabelle. **

**I own nothing. Please enjoy.**

OoOoOo

They were dying, in droves they were being slaughtered and Hermione could do absolutely nothing to stop the massacre. Briefly she wavered in her desire to accept the creature before her. He knew her so well, that it made her wish she could flee or even possibly find death's embrace because he-

No, no. She was safe here with him, even if the others lay in blood soaked halls with vacant and dead eyes staring off into nothingness. The halls were only populated with dangerous creatures like him, how she knew; Hermione could only fathom to call it instinct. The others like _him_, but nothing like him at the same time, claimed the once hallowed grounds of the magic castle. However a certain sense of dread filled her knowing that the creature before her would not allow harm to come to her because she was _his_.

Hermione shuddered, her skin prickled violently in awareness of his body pressed against hers. His clawed hands gripped her hips, and she could feel his fingers twitch. It was as if he was undecided whether he should pull her closer or devour her on the spot. She shivered as her mind coaxed forward images from her day dreams, where she could still hear his sounds of pleasure dancing across her ears.

He was dangerous, in more ways than one, and his lips shaped into a sinful leer. His amber-goat eyes enticed her to the precipice of heedless abandon. His body heat warmed her in places that teetered on indecent, and she could almost feel as if he knew it. The way he pressed against her had her trembling from fear.

Fear? How silly and nonsensical, she was enamored with him. The way his horns gleamed in the candlelight, nearly tipped in molten silver was bewitching. Her eyes flickered back and forth between the golden hoop that matched the intricate trinkets in his dark hair; and the sight of his teeth biting into the simple chain that held the hoop.

His immoral eyes watched her with undisguised delight and wicked intent.

She licked her dry lips and her pulse fluttered higher, like a newly hatched bird attempting to flee from a rather starved cat. She could not move away, could not look away. Why would she ever want to? There was a strong pull in her mind as her thoughts whispered questions as to why she would ever want to leave him.

The wood of the table bit painfully into the backs of her legs. Her breaths came out shallow and she could feel herself flushing with an unnatural heat. The desire to be near him, around him, and to have him in her grew at an alarming rate. Her luminous eyes glazed over and her conscious thought was swiftly becoming more befuddled.

He was strikingly handsome, though the only thing that marred his flawless features was the animal quality of him. Her limbs felt heavy with terror, and she rationalized that it must have been from the screams of the dying.

Screams? Hermione jerked, her body flinched away from his as much as the tight confines of her limited space allowed.

"Hush now pet," he said, dropping the chain and she felt the hoop slap against her skin with a soft thud. She wasn't afraid of him, what a ridiculous notion. Something about him, a feeling in the air, called to her and ripped apart the lingering doubts until nothing was left but a profound want of-

"Help me! Oh God! Oh Merlin! No!" The wail, filled with keening despair, echoed through the small room.

The muscles in her neck protested as she whipped her head around to the sound of someone calling for help. Her lips parted in a silent gasp as a boy burst through the library doors. His hair was ruffled and knotted with what appeared to be clotted blood.

Her body lurched forward as she sought to help him akin to a paragon of virtues. Her hands were reaching for him before he tumbled to the floor, scrambling to find some solace from the unending nightmare. His screams echoing through the silent room as Hermione pushed against the arms that held her fast. She struggled to go to the boy's aid.

It proved pointless as the horned male moved in large strides toward the innocent wizard. Cruel fingers grabbed him up in an iron grip with speed that surprised Hermione. Death, she imagined briefly, must have been laughing in some not too distance place. The whispers of malicious intent turned to screams as sharp teeth were bared in an animalistic snarl.

The wizard yelled in fright and twisted in the air against the creature that held him fast.

"No, no, no!" The shout of denial filled Hermione with despair and a sense of helplessness as she clutched her hands together, her fingers itched to take her wand in hand. She couldn't harm either of them. It did not make sense why he was doing this. He knew her, he knew everything about her. Hermione desperately tried to sues out the strange feelings juxtaposed with the consequences hanging around them.

"Help me!" He screamed as his wide and wild eyes full of panic caught sight of her. "Please! Oh Merlin, help me!"

It was as if the state of confusion she'd been under snapped in an instant. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and she snatched up her wand, heedless of the danger and pointed it at the terrifying creature before her.

Amber goat eyes warred with her limpid ones, and she shook with fear. Her wand made small patterns in the air as she fought to keep it steady. Her eyes narrowed on her target, hoping to fight yet knowing somehow that spells against him would prove useless.

He nodded at her, his jangles tinkling a sweet note despite the thrashing and screams of the wizard.

"Drop the wand," He commanded.

And she did, though her fingers felt like lead weights. She watched mystified as they uncurled slowly, her arm trembled, and the wand dropped to the floor. It mocked her, and her willpower. Hermione whimpered in fright. She tried to throw up the mental shields, but nothing appeared to be in her mind. Yet, she could not help but to obey him.

Her thoughts whirled as she sought to shift tactics. She could save the boy. She could. Hesitantly, she crept closer, her gaze fixed firmly on the sharp teeth he possessed. For the first time, the reality of how dangerous he was hit home far stronger than before as she felt as if she were closing the gap between herself and a large beast.

"Please," she whispered softly, her knees trembling more violently than the storm raging outside. "Let him go," her hand trembled as she reached out to place it on his arm softly. Her skin shook against his creating a delicious sort of excited friction.

"Let him go," she pleaded again, her eyes wide and lips quivered. "And I'll come with you," her mind screamed its protest with her concern warring her fear to new heights. "Willingly," she submitted after a heartbeat, hoping to sway the destruction '_Slytherin_' was so capable of.

He let loose a laugh, caught halfway between amused and mocking. The vague sense that she'd heard that laugh before. Hermione knew that laugh, nearly as well as she knew her favorite books. There was only one person, to her knowledge that had ever made that sound before and it belonged to her most detested rival.

"Willingly?" He growled gutturally. The porcelain mask of his face, achingly beautiful as it was intimidating, was marred with a scowl. "You're_ mine_ already. Willing or not," his voice hinted at the darkness that emanated from him. "You cannot bargain with me for what I already have little witch."

Her body moved toward him of its own accord, her gaze locked on his startling eyes. They swirled, melting into her gaze and it left her breathlessly wanting more. His predatory features leered at her, his sharpened teeth gleamed in the torchlight making him look every inch as evil as her soul knew he was.

It resounded in her thoughts like a shot in the dark that she belonged to him. Not even death would keep her from his…

_Evil._

His strong hands, with his dagger-like claws caressed the head of the very wizard she sought to save. The male's eyes were wide with terror and he all but begged her with his eyes to run. Hermione pitied the poor soul, she would never run.

Not from him.

"Look at me," he whispered like a lover's rough caress against her and a small moan answered his assertive demand.

Breathing became nigh on impossible as his intent showed in the sinister smile he gave her.

Hermione felt the tears well in her eyes, but why was she crying? He was saving her from the danger the wizard presented. She must have been crying in relief because it would all be over soon. She watched, stunned, when the crimson liquid of life flowed over the creatures fingers, and down to the stone floor. For a fleeting moment she thought of a prayer to say before it was forgotten to the sands of time.

His amber-goat eyes looked at her with rapture and euphoria. She could feel her body respond to his gaze, her pulse quickening and a need so strong that it slickened her nether region even thought her mind rebelled against the knowledge that a student lay dead at his feet. Her hands tightened into fists as she struggled to… to… what did she even want? The image of her wand flashed quickly across her mind's eye.

Where was her wand?

Ruby-red blood dripped from his fingers as he plucked the magical conduit from the floor where it had fallen haphazardly. When had it gotten there? He gathered her to him, the warm blood soaking into her robes and pressing against her skin like a scalding brand. His horns gleamed wickedly in the light as he lowered his head. The melodious sound of the jangles, bits, rings, and gems crooned a sweet tune to her ears.

His unearthly face loomed in her vision, the feeling of death and menace poured off of him in waves. His perfectly sinful lips claimed hers, the rush of desire increased tenfold. She could sense an unnatural presence roaming about her thoughts, and she attempted to press against it and force it out. The male near devouring her lips groaned in response. She became instinctually aware that her continued confusion and struggle aroused him. She despised him as he savored her.

Her fingers splayed against his chest, and she could not recall moving her arms. She panted as he pulled back, his pure feral desire toward her apparent in his heavy stare.

"It is time to go." He said temptingly.

_Ensnared_. Panic flittered at the edge of her sense of reason and she felt truly trapped. His magic, dark and corrupt was far greater than any force she'd ever known.

"Why Malfoy?" She asked before she was aware of doing so, as her swollen lips formed the words with breathless fear.

"I knew you'd figure it out," he smiled indulgently with his blood soaked fingers stroking her cheek. She shuddered in revolt at the cold gore. His wicked and inhuman eyes watched her intently. Some part of her knew he was pleased by her deduction.

"My _bride_."

Hermione's gaze waivered and before she could get over the shock, another face, that of the pale-haired wizard aristocrat, flashed in her mind. Denial etched through her so strongly she was able to scream.

"No!"

His eyes narrowed on her face and a sinister grin replaced the indulgent look he'd held but moments before. Malice exuded in the aura around him along with a strange sense of possessiveness that instinct warned her she would be unable to win against.

"You accepted my gift," he murmured tracing the hoop that lay innocuously on her chest.

Subconsciously, her hand flew up to the trinket and her fingers slid against his unwittingly. His amber eyes clashed with hers, swirling her further into the dark pool of heinous affirmation.

"You belong to me now," he stated with assertion. His smug look and arrogance conveyed beyond his looks alone.

"Why else do you think you were spared?"

The dried blood on her cheek only served to remind her of and deepen her horror.

OoOoOo

"Marcus _please_," Katie begged with unhinged terror welling inside her "don't do this." Her fingernails scrapped along the stone floor as she attempted in vain to pull away from the beautiful monster before her. She feared greatly what he wanted from her. Her naivety could not stand against the probability of the horrendous fate awaiting her at his… hooves.

_The sound of you begging, Katie, it does things to me._

The wild magic was drowning her in a veritable tide of raw energy. She could not push against it nor force out the radiating sensation that whispered of his _obsession_ with her. Instinct warned her adamantly that he had come for her this night. The mania gleaming from his terrifyingly wonderful and unnaturally lit eyes spoke volumes of how long he had waited to claim her.

How long he'd be forced to deny himself.

A whimper of distress worked its way through her throat, caught momentarily by her fright. Dismay ate at her until it was all but consuming. There was no one coming to her rescue, she knew it. There was no way they could fight whatever Marcus was. The wild magic ragged around them pulling, prodding, and tearing her magic to shreds. She could not focus enough to cast so much as a single spell. Still the young woman persevered and attempted to gather what remained, however it did nothing to help her in the slightest.

The dark muzzle of bone and sharp teeth neared her, causing the Gryffindor maiden to close her eyes. She allowed a sob of pure unadulterated dread.

_You taste delicious._ The voice reminded her with sultry villainy.

The wholly masculine presence in her mind pushed forward. She could feel that he hungered for her, and she was awash with fear over which sense of the word would be better or worse given the situation. His hooves landed on either side of her prone form. She flinched back, hoping to press her body further into the stone if possible.

His breath was hot on her face, and she was certain he would consume her now, as she thought he'd wanted that night when she'd first seen his true form.

_Just one touch._

Her eyes snapped open, and she stared at him with incredulity. He could not possibly believe that she would touch him now. Her fingers trembled against the floor as she held herself up. The sharp bony protrusions of his teeth sickened her as much as they terrified her. However, as soon as she gazed at his form, the unnatural and horrifying beauty of him caused her to be unable to look away again.

His aura screamed of death, defilement, and yearning.

_Touch me._ His voice coaxed hypnotically.

She did not want to. However, she wanted to make him happy. She ached to touch him. Just as she had that night so long ago, she felt a child-like urge to feel his hide beneath her fingers. Human curiosity became a double-edged sword as she moved to crouch before him.

She could practically feel him radiating his excitement, thought it was tainted with darkness. He was fatal, some part of her knew it. She could feel that he'd taken the lives of others before. The strange occurrences around the castle must have been him, somehow. Surely, he would be satiated if she touched him.

Foolishly, she hoped eh would let her go.

_Safe._ He prodded bewitchingly.

She slowly pushed herself into a standing position, watching with delight the way the torchlight danced across the dark horse. He moved forward and tossed his mane in a fierce display as he pawed at the ground.

It was almost as if he were coaxing her to ride him.

Gingerly, she laid a hand upon him. Her breath stilled in her chest as she waited for something dangerous to happen.

_Come to me._

She was already touching him. She drew back her hand and marveled that she wasn't bound to him. Hermione had been wrong. A sense of relief flooded her senses. She nearly allowed herself to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

His presence in her mind pushed her to grab his mane, and Katie tried to fight off the foreign feeling. She was unsuccessful, and instead found herself swinging her leg over to mount him. She did not even know how she managed to do so, he was so large. It should not have been possible in the slightest and-

Her skin was stuck to his. As if every inch of him embraced her for his own and refused to let him go. She tried to push against him and unseat herself, however, the more she tried to pry herself from him the more pain she caused herself.

A chuckle, cold and eerie filled her thoughts as the horse ran faster. The sound of its pronged hooves hitting the stone blasted through the hallways as he galloped with her on his back. She hunched lower toward him as they moved through doorways, and she clutched him with a scream welling in her chest as he leapt over the side of a stairwell.

They were plummeting to the ground floors below.

She screamed in terror as the horse whinnied. Suddenly, instead of crashing into the stone, the dangerous creature landed with grace, his mane of waterweed falling to the side as he reared back. Katie pressed her face to the creature's neck out of instinct. She was embracing him, trying to hold on, though she could do nothing else.

He galloped, his turn of movement bone jarring. She clenched her teeth as the serpent like twist made her nauseas. She forgot her discomfort and her fear when she noticed the dead all around her. Crystalline tears fell unheeded as she saw the faces of people she recognized amongst the carnage.

They were dead. They were all dead. Hideous creatures with twisted faces mocked her as their beady eyes watched her astride the unholy horse.

"No," she lamented softly. Her tears trailed down the neck of the beast, who thundered over and upon the corpses of the fallen. The stench of decay already started against the overpowering scent of copper in the air. The acrid smell of blood permeated the air so strongly she gagged.

_Glorious._ He whispered in her mind and Katie trembled in her ineffectual rage coupled with pained grief.

She felt the numbing sensation of the cold rain splattering her skin and she wished it would wash her clean of this night. Lightning flashed across the sky, and she turned her gaze heavenward. The air seemed to crackle with more of the wild magic. Howls split the night and drove fear into her heart once more. The abominations, things of legend and folk lore prowled with sinister intent.

Everyone was dead; she could not help but think.

Even as the horse's hoof beats trundled closer to the large body of water the lake provided. Katie saw it looming before her and renewed her struggles in earnest. She could feel the nature of the beast changing, growing more unhinged and dangerous. She had not thought it possible. The water splashed around them as he leapt into the lake.

What could she do?

She was unable to even scream. Water was everywhere; he was pulling her deeper toward the bottom. Somewhere along the decent, she was no longer glued to his skin. In fact he had all but disappeared as the murky depths made it impossible for her to see him.

Suddenly weeds grabbed her tight, holding her as the cold water numbed her body.

_Katie_. He whispered in her thoughts nearly frenzied.

Lightening split the sky, and for one single moment, enough light was cast into the dark water for her so see the terrifyingly beautiful horse swimming toward her.

His serpent tail coiled behind him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you my lovely readers! Thank you my fantastic reviewers!**

**I own nothing, please enjoy.**

OoOoOo

"Spared?" She parroted back, unable to tear her gaze away from him.

His strange eyes nearly glowed with a twisted form of affection that left her feeling strangely cold. The swell of possessiveness clung to her thoughts and Hermione was torn between what she was feeling and the small whispers in the back of her mind that prodded at her something was infinitely _wrong._

Some part of her, perhaps it was instinct, felt as if he hated her as equally as he wanted her. She knew he wanted her, he had always wanted her. Somehow, she understood it was true. Hermione could not name nor understand her new found knowledge but it was as certain as her need to draw breath. He'd always considered her his, as if his gift were little more than a formality of sorts.

Protection, he was her protection against the screams resonating through the godless night. She swallowed, a sickly weight built in the pit of her stomach. It was… this could not be? Could it? She was his bride now? No. She could never love him. Could never marry Malfoy.

Her train of thought broke silently, she would be his. No part of her would remain untouched under his corrupt hands. The images of her dream flashed before her, the cries of fear and ecstasy that rang from her lips.

His magic pushed in on her, stripping her of the will to fight him. Her denial at his declaration seemed but a thin and long ago memory. The unearthly face before her drew closer, and something in her chest ached at his closeness. Even as the depraved and shameful need he projected had her flushing.

_Surrender._ The word echoed like a shout through her mind. Her spirit rebelled against it, but she was unable to comply with her own unspoken protest.

"Your kind is nothing but filth, and we are tired of it." His voice was smooth silk, edged only by the threatening edge it held. The frosty tone failed to permeate her altered state.

"We?" She asked the question semi-rhetorically because part of her already knew with mounting dread, the answer. Still, despite her warring emotions she could not bring herself to do anything more than stare at his striking features with an expression that bordered enamored.

"The _pure blooded_, do not pretend to believe otherwise." He reprimanded with a light nip to her throat. Her pulse sped up, and she bit back a sound of pleasure.

He was too close. It was wrong. He'd killed a boy in front of her.

"You aren't purebloods. Ronald is a pureblood. He is nothing like you" she spat venomously, "you're _monsters_!"

He threw back his head and laughed. The sound of the bits and trinkets that jingled in his hair no longer sounded melodious, but frightening and mocking. It was a dark and sinister sound that caused goose bumps to rise along her arms. Hermione involuntarily took a step backward.

"_We are the purebloods_," he said after stifling his mirth, his amber eyes staring straight into her being it left her feeling exposed and alone. "We are the ones first born _purely_ from _magic_. Our lines are untainted by others."

Confusion laced her fleeting state of lucidity. Her brows puckered and her luminous eyes were clouded with repressed terror.

"Born of magic? Wizards and witches-"

"Are nothing more than the bastard offspring of those that found humans _alluring_." He said the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. The wicked grace of his features eased slightly as he looked at her for a moment, as if pondering some vast and obscure riddle. "Admittedly, there is some appeal to those that stabilize magic."

"Stabilize?"

"Humans are not magical, nor are they truly conduits for magic at all. Magic cannot exist wholly within itself and unopposed. The world has different energies, I am sure you have heard of lay lines? Yes, well it is something akin to that quaint little theory. Magic has two parts. Those that are born of the essence and those who are not, in this case meaning the muggles. The muggles made the lines between magic and the other energies more prominent. They provided stability for those that drew upon the energies, thus allowing the possibility to combine the energies without dying. They allowed excess magic to be filtered out. It was… useful upon occasion." He said dismissively with his claws trailing lightly up her arms. The salacious feeling that emanated off of him left her weak at the knees. She was equal parts compelled toward him and repulsed.

The shouts of the dying thundered through the halls, and she worried how many more would lose their lives this horrid night. She feared for her friends, if his protection kept her from death's embrace, what of the others? Had any of her own friends been monsters like them? Ron? Luna? Katie?

A gasp, lost in the space between her and her captor, tore from her throat at the thought of the Gryffindor chaser.

His fingers twined in her hair, grabbing the strands in a sturdy grip. Her focus returned to the ghastly attraction she held for creature before her.

"For a period of time, yes we all lived in a form of harmony, I suppose you could say. The pureblood, magic born, ruled the lands and humans scurried underfoot. They built cities to band together and their warriors were something… _once_. However, now they have grown far too many and it is affecting all magic. They were never meant to number as high as they do."

She trembled beneath his touch. The weight of his words searing into her as she connected the pieces left unsaid. The threats that lay buried in his deep timber of enchantment.

"Gods, demons, angels, Jinn, fairies, furies, fates, monsters of the night, vampires, werewolves, snow women, Aughisky, and everything in-between or beyond. We, the true magic children, are all of them.  
You call them myths and legends, Granger. So quick to forget that those little fairy tales muggles tell their children at bedtime are actually based in truth. _We" _he said gesturing to the carnage and gore, "are very much real, but forgotten. All because of little _witches_ like you."

He toyed with a lock of her hair, watching as it slid over his fingers and admiring the sheen in the torchlight. She shivered as he caressed her cheek with his other hand; the dried blood itched at his movement.

"I don't-" She started with her brow furrowing.

"Understand? It seems that is a common thing for you tonight, _brightest witch of her age_." The title was said both leeringly and condescendingly. "Let's see if I can enlighten you, my Bride. Witches and Wizards look so very close to humans. In fact, they more or less are, but muggles can accept them better than my kind because of the similarities. Your kind hid amongst them while they waged war with mind. It was rather pointless for our power was much stronger, but there was something we did not account for between our worlds. They find your powers bordering of strangely desirable, but with we purebloods, well… it is a different story. Sight alone terrifies them."

His hands traced down her curves, and she fought for control against some foreign sensation she could not name.

"Yet, humans cause chaos wherever they go, but Wizards could not shake the want of them, the strange non-magical creatures like them. Though wizards and witches feared us, the ones who are harbingers of doom and mass destruction, they grew to revel in the power they held over humans. Witches and wizards sought to woo them, unable to part with the humans whose existences were so fragile. Delicate. Easily extinguished; yet altogether fascinating."

She could comprehend what he was saying, but it left her mystified as to why. He was so compelling with his flawless porcelain features.

"But-"

"But nothing," he snarled inches from her face, as his sharp teeth caused fright to worm through her veins. Yet, even though she could feel the icy tendrils of fear, she could not help but draw closer toward him. "You _children_, _bastards _that should never have been, decided to stage a rebellion against us, in order to grow your new found power over the lesser creatures. We who were once considered _gods, and worshiped_ were then fighting against the very bastards some had helped spawn. It was a disgrace!"

"Magic-half breed like you attacked viciously, for you breed so remarkably _easy._" Lust and reproached coupled within his eyes, and she gasped for breath. The weight of his desire caused her body to enflame with a sensation she'd never known prior to this night. Unadulterated need echoed in her thoughts. Her thighs quivered as her leg sought to move closer toward him of its own volition.

"Our magic was either exploited, or we were killed outright. Tales of _Heroes_ sprang from the wars we waged upon each other. Folklore and legend meshed into some litany of tribulations against my kind. Somehow, we were driven back and you little witches and wizards decided to protect humanity to serve your own ends. However, the bastards knew that their prize would be only shortly won. It was known that humans would turn against you as well. Their nature is far too fickle, that is nearly admirable."

"But I must admit that you half-breeds are quite remarkable. You took our natures and warped them with magic to suit your own ends." There was a glint of respect in his amber-goat eyes that was quickly over shadowed with murderous rage. "You called it _Imperius,_ used it as a curse when we had used it to survive the biased nature of humans. It was our magic alone that quelled most of their desire to fight us, but little witches used it to ensnare the hearts of men and have humans fight us instead."

Menace, the likes of which she had never known howled in her thoughts. The aura about him which foretold of death and defilement sprang to life once more, and she cowered. She tried to flinch away, as his form appeared larger, the wicked horned protrusions from his head no longer seemed delicate but fearsome.

Her mind belatedly realized she was truly seeing him, as any muggle would have. He was hideous, a twisted creatures of evil intent and desires. There was still beauty about him, but it was fleeting as the wrongness of him settled heavily in her breast.

She screamed.

He grinned at her, the pointed teeth that spoke volumes of being a carnivore etched in her mind's eye. His cruel fingers gripped her waist harshly, and his strength was not lost upon her. There was no way in heaven or earth she could pry herself free from his grip. The images flashed through her mind as vividly as if they were occurring presently of the Centaur from the forest and their first meeting.

"If that were not enough of a sin against your kind, you then locked magic away from the rest of the world because you could not control the humans as easily as was anticipated. Oh no, they turned against you like wolves against little lambs. They tore apart the half-breeds far easier than they did us purebloods with assistance from the power hungry."

There was a hollow sense of retribution slipping through her thoughts like a poison.

"And, we purebloods are done waiting for our world back. The lands of our ancients, and the magic that is owed to us by birthright."

His presence in her mind overwhelmed her. Her arms froze part way into gripping her head against the onslaught of pain, destruction, fear, and arousal that swirled around him.

"The muggles, humans, were once brave. They fought and died en mass for causes. However, time has made them weak and afraid. They have grown so used to believing that we are harmless stories, and fighting over petty things like technology, relationships, and material goods that they have lost their old ways. Most cannot even survive without a market nearby." His tone suggested how much he relished the subjugation, misery, loss, and death he envisioned.

Glorious, that was how he saw it while all Hermione could think of was a notion similar to Armageddon. It flittered through her, the dawning horror of the situation. What they planned to do. Monsters like him wanted to usher in a new era, humanity would survive but at remarkably small numbers. The way they had lived thousands of years ago.

_Ruination._

_The world in downfall._

"You can't!" She denied to the very soles of her feet, her thoughts a jumble of chaos. The dynamism and sway her held over her was naught but a slight murmur in the background of her confused mind. However, it was still very much present and they were both aware of her predicament.

"Can't?" he questioned with one perfect brow rising, the wickedness that radiated from him nearly stole her breath away. "I can and I will. I shall bathe my horn in their blood, relish the screams of the dying as they fill my ears, and then I shall conquer the land my forefathers once held. I will make a palace out of the bones of humans, complete with throne and bed."

His unholy eyes locked with hers and she could feel her terror slipping away like leaves in the fall.

"When I am satisfied, I shall then conquer _you,"_ he dipped his head and captured her mouth with sinful lips. It robbed her of any sense of hope or security. Instinct reared its head that he would have her and it was only a matter of time. She might even submit to his ministrations willingly if the hold he had on her did not waiver. He could and would make her want him; she knew it down to her very soul. He would own her.

She licked her dry lips, the final burning question lodged between her lips until it was pressed forward with a soft huff of breath.

"What are you?" She whispered, her body shaking so rapidly that she nearly stuttered.

He drew himself up to an even more intimidating height, and the tips of his horns nearly gouged the ceiling, the intricate spiked pattern loomed before her eyes. His face held an expression of godless abandon.

"What am I? I am your husband, bride. I the only thing that keeps you from meeting the same grizzly end as the others, and trust me… there are others. I am Draco Malfoy, heir of the house Malfoy. I am the Prince of Fomorians!"

The wind howled and lightening flashed in time with his declaration. Hermione feared that even the elements were subject to his command.

OoOoOo

Beyond the winds, rain, and flashes of light from an angry sky; the black lake slowly tinged with crimson red blood. The waters, agitated from the storm, gave up their sinister prize.

An otherwise healthy liver, untouched, floated to the surface before sinking back into the tainted depths once more.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you my reviewers! Thank you so much for reading. **

**Rated M. I own nothing. This may be a trigger for some. I advise you not to read if it becomes to disturbing. **

OoOoOo

She was drowning in the murky depths of the Black lake. Her lungs burned as she screamed out what little precious air she held. Fear and panic were carving a path inside her as she felt the sharp teeth of the water horse would do momentarily. She fought desperately against the weeds that held her fast.

It proved to be a futile endeavor. The weeds bit into her tender skin, chapping it roughly as she thrashed in the water like a woman possessed. Every spell she'd ever learned flashed across her thoughts too quickly for her to grasp a single one. As if the very action of freeing herself seemed too great to comprehend.

Her limbs ached from exertion and her lungs could not take much more. Lightening split the sky nearly in twain.

_Death_. She was in the presence of death. Katie lurched backward, ineffectually kicking her one free leg with a keen sense of desperation. Something was next to her. Was it him? She was too afraid not to look.

His laughter echoed in her thoughts and she clenched her hands in reflex. Away, she had to get away. Yet, a lazy movement caught her attention. The drifting was too subtle to be Marcus.

Dear Merlin.

Her wide eyes registered, while darting around to look for some slim chance of salvation, the bodies that floated haphazardly around her. There were dozens of bodies. They too were caught up in weeds. They all wore robes, and had she been able to feel the tears that mixed with the cold; she would have known how hard she wept. Her stomach twisted in knots until she was certain that pain was all she would ever know.

Pale faces, touched by the unforgiving hand of death stared blankly. Parts of some had been eaten away. 'Eaten,' she vaguely registered the thought. She knew that it meant something, but her shocked psyche could not supply 'what' or 'why' it was important.

It was almost as if she could not fully process what she was seeing.

If she had been afforded the luxury of the terrified wail that caught in her throat, she might have allowed it to escape. Her teeth clenched painfully, holding back the precious air.

Katie felt for the first time in her young life the heavy sense of impending doom that those who hover between life and death feel. The void was beckoning her. She was frightened beyond all rational understanding. Blind panic had a hold of her now.

Seconds felt as if they had slowed to hours. Hours in the bitterly cold and black waters that churned around her.

Lightning split the sky, illuminating the brackish water briefly. She gasped and sputtered on liquid, as it seared a path to her deprived lungs. '_No_' her mind screamed even as dreadful acceptance began to take root. Katie knew she was going to die. It seemed as if it were merely a matter of time now. Her struggles grew weaker as the weeds continued to keep her entangled.

'_Not like this_,' she begged of some higher power she hoped was listening, '_please not like this._'

The world around her was eerily silent, as the pace of her thundering heart became impossible to hear. _Water_. The water was all around her.

Everything burned so harshly that Katie felt as if her chest had been lit on fire. She could see the last vestiges of her air escape in small, weak bubbles that floated upward until she lost sight of them.

Then darkness stole back over the lake and she closed her eyes, knowing that death would soon come for her. Her thoughts grew harder to hold onto, and her head felt light. Yet, she could still feel that she was terrified and alone. She was going to die alone.

_Katie. _The hated voice whispered her name like a lover's caress. Even in her current state, her body twitched at the presence in her head.

There was pressure on her jaw as her lips were forced open. There was something warm touching her lips. Warm and smooth, Katie could not claw her way back to full possession of her faculties. A texture, besides the full weight of water slid down her throat. It was slimy, somehow horrid and long.

Light flickered behind her eyelids; her body was a foreign entity for she was no longer in it. Was she?

Something sharp and hard slammed into her magic as it fluttered, barely clinging to life.

All at once, with a shock so powerful she lurched. Katie sucked in greedy mouthfuls of air. No, it was not air, it was liquid and dense. It created a pressure in her chest. Her eyes watered as a coughing fit, the likes of which she had never known, seized her. Over and over her body tried to expel the water that had forcefully invaded her abused lungs before she had tolerated it.

Her chest rose and fell in a fiery sensation of pain.

She was _breathing_. Every prayer she'd ever learned as a child tumbled from her mind in a litany of thanks. Slowly, she opened her eyes, disturbed that she could breathe. She was both thankful and fearful.

Breathing meant she wasn't dead yet.

If she was not dead, then…

Dread pooled in her trembling limbs as the sinister face of the dark horse met her gaze. The serpent tail curled around her, nearly possessively. She shuddered in revulsion as she coughed once more. When had he gotten so close to her? Instinct warned her to stay as still as possible. The elongated muzzle came closer toward her.

With wide eyes she could do no more than watch him. Some part of her whispered that he was going to eat her, as he had the others. Yet, why had he let her live?

It was a question she both did and did not want to answer.

_There, there precious. _

He rubbed against her; his hide was smooth and cold. It was strange because she had believed he was the warm presence but moments ago. That feeling of possessiveness ensnared her attention, along with the other atrocious and violent needs that emanated from his presence.

There was a pull to his wicked presence, something almost seductive in the way his body coiled around hers. Raw and base animal nature radiated from the unnatural eyes that gazed into hers. Her lips parted, out of the sudden and forceful need that welled within her. The barest touch of his true emotion against her tender mind had her body pooling heat to her nether region.

Her body felt taut and too warm. Katie huffed a watery breath and tried to pull away from the unwelcomed depravity that exuded from him. The call from him was nearly too strong, but the Gryffindor maiden blinked slowly, trying to edge back from the abyss he tempted her with.

'_Let me go,_' her mind whispered back at the smoldering presence she knew to be him.

_Never. _His voice lashed out forcefully.

She had feared that answer, yet she had known he would give it. Something inside her inexplicably knew that he had waited for the chance to ensnare her. He had succeeded, and now he would not release her. He radiated mania, compulsion, violence, animalistic desire, and obsession. Gone was the lustful moment from before. In its place lay a path toward absolute rage and destruction.

_You're mine. Always mine. _

It was stated as if it were undeniable fact. Katie wanted to protest, but not even the full thought could form. She recalled the wicked and deadly creatures that had been prowling all around them as he had bolted into the dark water. His sharp teeth moved closer toward her.

Horror painted her features. She could not move away from him, his tail tightened around her further. The pressure served as a reminder that she stood no chance against him. Her wand was too far from her reach, and she did not believe for a moment that her spells would even affect him. The memory of the wild magic made her shudder.

Was she safer with the evil she knew, or the multitude of monsters she did not? Katie understood that even if she were somehow to escape the deadly creature surrounding her, she was unlikely to survive the countless others.

_Safe._ His voice crooned in her mind. Desperation set in, and she wished he had allowed her to drown. However, she knew with a sickening sense of dire certainty that he would not have permitted it.

Katie felt helpless and caught in the hold of a being much more powerful than she could even dream about being.

The water horse, Marcus in his monstrous form, brushed its muzzle over her face gently.

_I shall feed and then we may leave. _

She thrashed wildly at his further intrusion in her mind. She hated the violation. He was a monster. There was no other way to describe him. And, horror sank into her stomach causing her legs to sting. He needed to feed, but Hermione had said that water horses ate people. She was the only one here.

Except the corpses.

Her eyes widened as his sharp teeth gleamed in the darkness, the lightening gave evidence to the twisted creature he truly was.

"NO!" She shouted, but the water greatly muted her words.

She could hear him laughing, the sound bounced off the walls of her skull. Katie trembled in disgust and terror as serpent tail uncoiled from her. The clawed protrusions of his hooves speared a body not far from them.

Dear Merlin. Did she know the person whose body Flint was about to eat?

She winced away, as much as was possible. Her eyes were tightly shut as she felt him uncoil from around her. She could not watch him… eat… someone. Her stomach turned, and her chest heaved with quickened breaths. Though she was no longer in danger of it at the moment, she still felt as if she were drowning.

The sound of bone snapping from the corpse and the high pitched whiney of delight from the water horse was almost too much to bear. Bright spots danced behind her eyes. The weeds continued to hold her against her will. She could not block out the sounds of flesh being ripped from bones. The sinew snapped against the monster's teeth.

Marcus Flint. Marcus Flint was a creature to heinous for her to ever comprehend. He was eating their classmates. Marcus Flint was _eating_ people.

No.

Please no.

She cringed at each snap of the bones as he devoured them greedily. Her heart hammered in her chest, threatening to burst out. However, Katie was convinced it stayed in her body if only to avoid being eaten by the creature that wanted her so darkly she almost prayed for death instead.

Her instincts warned her to get as far away as possible, but no matter how much she struggled she was unable to free herself. The wild magic essence was still prevalent. The storm raged above and Katie could hear the roar of thunder and hoped it would strike the lake.

Death would be a better fate, she believed grimly. Fear drenched her senses until all she could do was to wait for the crunching of bone between his teeth to cease. A sense of hopelessness spread through her, numbing her body as she waited.

_Your terror truly is appealing._ His depraved tone shot through her, causing her head to jerk upward in the water.

She opened her eyes and immediately regretted it. Crimson blood clouded the water between them. It brushed over her body, she watched in absolute shock as she breathed it in. Crystalline tears mingled with the blood. She was breathing the blood of someone she might have known.

Katie's mind could not handle the shock and she gagged roughly.

When her fit had subsided, he was next to her in the blink of an eye. She glared at him balefully.

"You'd better just kill me," she said, though the water muted her words greatly. She knew he understood by the way he tossed his head. His weed mane floated around him like a sinister cloud of doom.

_Kill you? Oh no. I have other plans for you. _

She swallowed a lump in her throat. It was composed of bile and true fear. Her hands clenched into fists as she trembled in the water. The darkness did nothing to calm her raging nerves in-between flashes of light.

_I can hear the questions you're not asking._ His tone was sinfully teasing. She turned her head away from him. Her eyes darted wildly searching for some sort of salvation from this living hell. There was none to be found.

_You are mine, Katie. Remember that. _His tail entwined around her once more. His claw-like hooved moved gracefully through the water as her neared. She could smell the stench of blood on him, around him the aura of death emanated so strongly she could not speak.

_I'm the only thing between you and a grizzly death._

Unbidden, the mental image of his sneering at her flashed across her mind. Some instinct told her he was enjoying her distress immensely. He thrived off of it and she was unable to stop herself from allowing the terror to well within her veins.

She wanted to ask him, no scream at him, to tell her exactly what that meant. However, the words died on her tongue. They withered and ceased to exist still unused.

_You'll be with me forever. _

The words sealed her fate as they simultaneously snapped some part of her. The world fractured all around her. Hysteria crept in mercilessly.

"You expect me to live here?" She yelled. Her eyes were impossibly wide with dawning terror. The hideous thought of being forced to stay with him caused revulsion to burn in her throat. Katie refused to think of what other twisted monstrosities Flint had planned.

_No Katie_. He said slightly reprovingly, his voice was low and slightly menacing_. Not here._ _An Aughisky can only _born _in the sea._ His tail caressed her midsection nearly tenderly. The fins pushed against her tender skin.

Had it been possible, she would have vomited at the implication his words held.

'_No,_' she thought with acute distress.

_Katie, my sweet Katie. _The pull of his magic was too much for her to fight off. The attempt was feeble at best. The corrupt sense of desire rose higher and higher nearly burning her in its wake. The bony protrusion from his muzzle slowly morphed before her very eyes. His sharp teeth set back as the inky black hide smoothed out into flesh. The unholy eyes, haunting in their intensity, shifted to the grey eyes that had watched her every waking moment.

Before her, floating with a godless look of abandon at her plight was Marcus Flint. He gave her not even a moment to comprehend what was happening, before his lips captured hers. He was strangely warm, despite the frigid water surrounding them. His grip was fierce as he held onto her, refusing to let go.

Want. Sick need pooled in her loins until she whimpered under the touch of his skin against hers. A feral moan answered her. The water around her felt warmer, and her thighs clenched together. The scorching weight of his fingertips danced across her skin. The ability to breathe soon became a task as she panted, tearing her mouth away from his.

'No,' she thought with wanton need for him to be near her.

_Yes, Katie._ His grey eyes pinned her causing her core to throb painfully. _I can sense how much you want this. How much you want me._

No, he was lying. She did not want him. She could never want him. Tears which could not be separated from the brackish water mingled freely. Her body felt as if it were burning a slow burn of unadulterated lust. Her hips subconsciously pressed against him. She would have sobbed, if her mouth had not been busy moaning in supplication for him to continue.

Wild magic swirled around them, coaxing her into an ever higher fevered pitch.

He had hardly touched her, yet she was reduced to a writhing mass of need.

His lips pulled back into a sinister smile that was wholly disturbing when combined with his overcrowded teeth. Teeth that could turn into fangs as he devoured…

_No, Katie._ He coyly admonished as he bit down on the juncture between her neck and shoulder gently.

Her thoughts were unable to keep up with her moral disgust at what he was. His hands roughly grasped her hips and ground her against him. She shuddered in his grasp.

'_You're despicable,_' her will roused once more. She wanted to push him away as his fingers deftly divested her of her robes. It left her with one less sopping barrier between them. Part of her marveled at the way his eyes shone with that unnatural light and barely concealed glee at the prospect of defiling her.

Dear Merlin. That is what he planned to do. Wasn't it? Every feminine instinct she possessed was on high alert and she was certain by the way he crushed his mouth to hers that he planned on having her. Her fingers trembled as she placed her hands on his chest, futilely attempting to shove him away. He did not budge; instead he chose to tear his mouth away from her. He bit her neck harshly.

She bit back a moan that edged upon a scream. His wicked touch traveling further south, honing in on a part of her body that she never wanted him to touch. She clenched her teeth and closed her eyes, not wanting to see the corrupt but rapturous look on his face.

She was a prisoner in her own body. Unable to keep him from forcing himself upon her, her mind rambled with broken thoughts. The sensation of his lips moving further down her neck to her collarbone blocked out all but he animalistic urge to scream.

_Close your eyes if you want Katie. But you will feel all of me. And before this night is through, my touch will claim every inch of you. _


End file.
